Running with the Wind
by LeNicchan
Summary: A Blood Elf Commander of the Horde's Draenor excursion; known for her smart wit, ability to annoy seemingly without trying and general cynicism of life. Lucky then that Lady Windrunner isn't actually alive. An (apparently) amusing story about a fun character and her Commanding officer, who might just save the Azeroth, and get in some smooches along the way.
1. Chapter 1 - For the Horde

**Greetings!**

 **Thank you for checking out my fanfiction! There are a couple things you should probably note before you start reading; first of all, this is the first story of any kind that I've ever written. I'm proud of how its turning out so far (at 18k words in) but I'm aware that I still have a lot to learn about writing. As such, don't expect a masterpiece, and if you see any (literacy) errors then feel free to point them out to me, along with your thoughts of the story.**

 **Secondly; while I do play WoW myself, I'm not _overly_ up to speed on my lore, but I do have a friend who is making sure most of what I say is accurate. This story is based towards the end of the Warlords expansion and I doubt it'll branch into Legion at any point.**

 **And lastly, FanFiction keep removing my standard scene break markers whenever I upload and anywhere with more than two line breaks gets reduced back down to one. The point is that its difficult to break the text up when something new happens; I've done the best I can, using an ugly (III) marker which makes the whole thing look like a legal form. If anybody knows how to let solve any of those two things I'd be grateful. I hate not being able to space out my text how I want.**

 **tl;dr is I'm a little bitch**

 **Regardless, enjoy the story!**

* * *

The unmistakable laughter of Orcs could be heard thundering into the cold night of Draenor, keeping the wild beasts of Gorgrond from sleep. The source of the laughter was the newly opened "Shattered Axe" tavern, set up by the Horde not too far from their Gorgrond Outpost to make life in enemy territory a bit more bearable.

 _Good to know these foreigners have their priorities straight,_ Lukk thought to himself, pulling his sleeveless fur vest tighter around his pale brown skin in an attempt to keep warm. The Orcs of Draenor had long since grown accustomed to its varied climate, but knelt hunched behind some thin bushes for hours on end in the dead of night, he could hardly be blamed for feeling the cold. Not in the least since Lukk himself was a good margin scrawnier than most Orcs; where most had muscle and strength Lukk had only his guile and subtlety to rely on. On some days he resented this about himself, but at times like this he cherished it.

"Captain, we've a few more on their way." The voice came a few metres to Lukk's right in a low whisper from where a slightly broader Orc knelt in a similar position behind some shrubbery, the faded mark of their organisation visible on his arm. He held a pair of binoculars to his eyes, watching the flat path that led from this new Horde's outpost to The Shattered Axe tavern. Lukk had never had much of an opinion on The Iron Horde, but when the foreigners came charging through the Dark Portal, a mix of Orcs and Goblins and Elves and all sorts of creatures Lukk had never even heard of and proclaimed themselves _The_ Horde, he knew where he stood.

In the distance, walking along the path towards them Lukk could now make out the figures his subordinate had spotted, although they were still too far off for him to count.

"How many exactly?" He questioned, causing the stockier Orc to his right to raise the dented brass binoculars to his eyes again, and focus on the figures for a few moments before replying.

"Four, all labourers by the looks of it. It'd be easier to take them when they're _leaving_ the tavern though." He raised a fair point, drunken Orcs were much easier to deal with than alert ones; brown skin or green, an Orc was still a formidable foe.

"True" Lukk replied as a gnarled smile formed on his face "But where's the fun in easy?" An amused grunt escaped from the other Orc as his reached to his side to clutch the worn steel axe that lay by his feet.

"Aye, Captain. I'll prepare the men, we'll be ready on your go." With this he moved off further into the underbrush to pass on the command. _With these four taken in we should have a twenty five of the green skinned mongrels in our hands, even more than we were even paid for,_ Lukk thought to himself _._ His twisted smile grew even wider as he imagined the sum of money that had been promised to them in exchange for this _pest control_.

The four labours were drawing closer his current position now, and a quick glance at the surrounding area showed that there were no guards in the around. Most likely they'd all been tempted inside the tavern too – after all, there was no Orc in the land that could resist cold ale, warm food and warmer women to ease away the aches of the day.

 _Even the whores are on our side_ , Lukk mused.

Each one of them wore a red tabard, emblazoned with the sigil of the foreign Horde, they were chatting among themselves, unaware of Lukk's position. From where he was crouched Lukk could make out only snippets of the conversation, they appeared to be talking about their Commander. Lukk moved his hand onto the pommel of his dagger that hung off his belt, in a few moments the labourers would pass right by him.

 _Perfect_.

Lukk gave a sharp whistle, causing the four Horde Labourers to turn towards his position in the brush – just as half a dozen of his own men leapt out of the jungle from behind them on the other side of the road, axes raised. Two of the labourers caught the flat of an axe to the back of the head and went out cold immediately, but the other two heard the movement behind them and spun to face it, dodging the oncoming swings. Lukk's men began to surround the two remaining Horde Labourers, ready to take them out too; seeing that they were outnumbered three to one, the two Labourers immediately roared a battle cry before charging at the closest of Lukk's men. The taller of the two managed to grab the shaft of an axe as it was being swung down on him, stopping it in its path and wrestling it off the brown Orc with a fearsome punch to the gut. The shorter labourer did not fare so well, landing one hit onto the closest assailant's face, but quickly falling to one knee after being caught off guard from behind with a swift cut to his leg, sharp elbow to the back of the head sent him to the ground beside his friends.

The last standing labourer who had managed to secure a weapon raised it above his head before swinging it down with a roar into the shoulder of the defenceless brown skinned Orc who he had taken it from, killing him instantly. He then dropped into a defensive stance to confront the five remaining ambushers in front of him; with a grunt, he prepared to charge forward, ready to kill his enemies or die trying for the sake of his unconscious friends. As he went to move a searing pain shot through his chest, causing him to grit his teeth to suppress a yell of pain.

 _Damn, was I shot?_ The labourer thought to himself, looking down in dread to examine the pain, not noticing the twisted smirks of his ambushers. His orange eyes widened with surprise as he saw two inches of steel protruding from the centre of the chest. Dropping the stolen axe from his hands with a dull _clang,_ the Orc clutched the wound as a new wave of pain shot through him, forcing the yell to escape from his mouth. Remaining conscious by nothing but pure willpower he felt a firm hand being placed on his shoulder from behind before the knife was slid out and his body went limp. He hit the ground with a thud.

"After all" said Lukk, standing behind the dead Orc's body, cleaning the blood soaked knife against his jerkin. "We were only paid for two dozen of them."

The five of Lukk's men who were still standing laughed heartily at their Captain's words.

"Now get these bodies cleared away, shackle the live ones and put them with the rest." Lukk ordered, no point getting caught once the mission was already over. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction as his men went about their orders, his mind once again on his promised payment.

 _The Iron Horde really does pay well._ He mused.

 **~~~ Frostwall Garrison, Two Days Later ~~~**

"Ya can't be serious Commander!" The troll exclaimed.

"What other choice does she have Ty'Jin?"

The Orc's response was one the Shadow Hunter couldn't argue, but he remained unconvinced on the matter nonetheless. He had been sent to Frostwall Garrison a few weeks ago on the Warchief's request to observe Draenor's Field Commander, following certain 'rumours' that had been circulating her of late - rumours that had been looking increasingly likely to be true since he arrived. Despite only being in Draenor a few days, Ty'Jin could already tell how much trust the troops put into their Commander – an impressive feat to be sure. To secure obedience during war time is an easy road to take, but loyalty during war took a much stronger kind of person, and the Horde always seemed to be at war with something. Whatever his impressions on the young Commander may be however, Ty'Jin, the _Ears of the Warchief,_ could not shake the feeling the she was out of her depth here.

"Of course there's a choice, Zog." The smooth voice came suddenly in a pensive tone from the back of the room, snapping Ty'Jin from his thoughts, where the very same Commander stood bent over the ornate war table, her gaze fixed on the map even as she spoke - if she hadn't addressed Zog directly, the pair might have assumed she was merely thinking out loud. "A tough choice I'll grant you, but a choice nevertheless." She continued in a more alert tone, her brow still furrowed as her emerald eyes scanned the map laid out before her, searching for some overlooked detail that might offer a different route, even if she knew none existed. She wore a set of gleaming plate armour, gilded in intricate patterns of golds, oranges and reds, all outlined by a deep charcoal finish. The individual patterns of the plate almost seemed to dance like fire if stared at for too long, fitting of the flame like castings that rose upward from her pauldrons – truly the armour of a Master Paladin. Her voice may not have carried the power of the Warmaster's, or even the authority of the Shadow Hunter's, but the silence persevering through the room was proof enough of its command.

Now aware that all the eyes in the room were focused on her, the young Paladin allowed herself a sigh of fatigue before straightening her back to address to men and women around her. Her blonde hair tied back in a low, makeshift ponytail tumbled off her shoulder and onto her back as she stood; displaying the grace she put into her every action. In truth it had been a long while since she had had an opportunity to fix her hair, let alone be allowed the luxury of sleep - but even in her worn down state she was still more beautiful than most. As with most Blood Elves she had the ability to retain her composure in any situation; as she had notably said to one of her lieutenants over a bottle of Brightsong wine not a week ago ' _This damnable conflict may well carry me to an early grave, but I refuse to be sent there looking like an Undead'._ Words she was beginning to regret saying; this latest occurrence that was causing so much debate in her own garrison had added years onto her age, she was certain of it.

The message had come through earlier in the day from one of the few remaining forces of the Iron Horde; a band of them had recruited a string of local militia and had managed to capture a number of Horde workers from the Gorgrond Outpost under the cover of night. For their release, the band was demanding that all her forces retreat from the area; land that had taken _months_ to secure. Just remembering it made her think twice about her decision, it was rare that she was this indecisive about anything, but people's lives were at stake here – good men, whose fate had been put into her hands… perhaps she was wrong? With a slight start the Commander suddenly became aware of her position again and pushed the thoughts aside to address the people gathered around her, all of which were watching, patiently awaiting her explanation.

"You are all aware of the situation" she began in a cultivated tone, moving slowly from behind the table as she spoke, passing each member of her army that had been invited to the meeting.

"Two dozen of our men are currently being held by a remaining faction of the Iron Horde; the group have lowered themselves to working with a local militia force that refer to themselves as 'The Unbroken'", she paused for a moment and allowed herself a small laugh "… we'll see about that." This drew out several grunts of laughter from some of the soldiers present. During her years with the army Commander Erenaar had learned that lightening a grim situation often made it easier to deal with, even if only slightly. "Now this militia may not have discipline," she continued, returning to the matter at hand "But they do have numbers. Until now we've left them mostly alone since they posed no immediate threat; that however, has just changed. I've already posted several scouts across Gorgrond to see if we can pinpoint their base of operations, no luck on that front I assume?" As she said this her head tilted towards one of her senior recruits, an undead named Viviane, who had been placed in charge intelligence handling. She had been recommended for the job by Warmaster Zog himself, and had proved worthy of his praise since– even if the Commander had at the time been sceptical about placing an Undead in charge of _intelligence_.

"Nothing to report, Commander. Still looking." Viviane replied. A response Commander Erenaar wholly expected to hear, this militia were proving to be a slippery lot.

"It would appear that we have two options then." The smooth, if not slightly exasperated voice of the Blood Elf continued. "And you already know my stance on them." At this point her refined figure stood in the centre of the room, with every pair of eyes observing her. "We lose over four months of progress into Gorgrond and hand over a key piece of territory to jumped up mercenaries… or we don't."

Once again silence reigned across the room as the dozen or so people arranged across the area looked at anywhere _but_ the Commander. Her usually bewitching gaze turned to one of cold steel as she scanned the array of people before her, all of who were going through the same conflict as her – morals versus practicality. _Luckily for them_ , Erenaar thought, _they're not the ones deciding_. Taking the opportunity, she began pacing once again, exploiting the silence to ensure control of the situation.

"It might seem like it's the higher ups in our little company that keep everything standing strong; that it's the Commanders and the Chiefs that do the real work; I know at times I certainly feel that way." Across the room heads began to once again raise and turn towards the Commander. "But in truth without the workers and peons pulling their shifts day in, day out at the bottom of our little chain nothing would be accomplished. This very building that shelters us from the cold wouldn't be here if not for the peons who chopped the wood, the blacksmiths who forged the nails and the workers who put it all together." It may have been a cliché speech to give, but the Commander was speaking with such a degree of apparent sincerity that all in the room took the words to heed. Especially since such open honesty was rare for her to express.

"Its those same workers that have been taken, and we have a responsibility to aid them. But how many more died in the fight to secure Gorgrond? How many more would we lose trying to re-secure it if we were to give them the land?" A look of agreement was already beginning to spread across the faces of everyone gathered; even the sceptical Shadow Hunter Ty'Jin looked mildly impressed by the Blood Elf's wordsmanship.

"I will not abandon the men who were the foundation of everything we have accomplished, but neither will I throw away meaning to the lives already lost." Her voice began picking up volume, creating grunts and murmurs of agreement from the small crowd.

 _Time for the big finish_.

"Viviane, increase the number of scouts present in Gorgrond. Gazlowe, send builders to reinforce the outposts. Bron, I need a raven sent to Khadgar, if the Alliance has encountered the same troubles he should be willing to share information with us. I will not surrender Gorgrond to the barbarians who claim it but neither will I play by the Iron Horde's rules; what I will do, what _we_ will do, is flush their petite 'warriors' out of our land and rescue our men on our own terms. Are you with me?"

"Aye, Commander!" The shout resonated through the room as the various parties moved off to fulfil their orders or pass the information down the chain of command, a new vigour moving them forward. The same could not be said for their Commander however, she understood the importance of keeping morale up, especially in such grey circumstances, but she herself barely had the energy to stay awake, let alone motivate a whole army.

 _I did not have the energy for that_. She thought to herself keeping up the confident demeanour and straight posture despite the overwhelming temptation to sign off to the Warmaster for some much needed sleep. _Not yet, there's still one more piece of work to get through... Oh, and here he comes._ An amused smile found its way onto the Commander's lips as Thrall walked towards her with a hearty smile on his face.

"Impressive as ever Commander!" The Orc complimented with a nod. "In all my time I've never met anyone who can energise worn out troops like you can."

"Now if only somebody could do the same for me." She replied, the smile on her face widening as her shoulders and back relaxed, allowing her fatigue to show. Thrall was one of the few Orcs Erenaar truly counted as a friend - she by no means disliked the Orcs as a people, in fact their strength and resilience in combat was something she admired a great deal, though her Blood Elf heritage kept her from ever truly accepting other races as her equals. She liked to think she was a great deal more accepting than most however, and among all she had met in her years of service there had been exceptions to this rule. Thrall was one such example of this; the two had fought together in many great battles and over time Erenaar had come to appreciate the powerful Orc's strength every bit as much as his intelligence. From the Siege of the Dark Portal to the Siege of Orgrimmar – going way back he had even entrusted her to scout the mysterious Deepholm in his stead when they both were a lot younger.

 _And a lot stupider_. The Commander reminisced, _God those were the days though; no politics, no negotiating. Just killing anything that wasn't wearing a Horde tabard. And even if they were… well, so long as nobody was looking._

"Well, you know what they say Commander, no rest for the wicked!" Thrall's words brought Erenaar back from her thoughts, she had a bad habit of zoning out at times.

"Clearly _they_ knew me well." She replied, turning her back to Thrall and motioning him to follow as she walked back towards the war table, which was looking more cluttered than ever before. "I need your advice Thrall," she continued "We've managed to gather some information on this so called 'Unbroken' militia's leader." As she said this she pulled a rolled piece of parchment from under a pile of scattered documents and unravelled it on the table for the green Orc to see.

The parchment was a wanted poster, centred on the portrait of a somewhat scrawny looking brown Orc; his black, greasy looking hair came down long on either side of his face and was tied back into a loose braid that fell over his left shoulder. The picture portrayed him with cruel, twisted smile across his face that only made his golden eyes seem more terrifying. Beneath the picture was written " _Wanted for organised crime, weapons dealing, multiple counts of murder. Dead or Alive. Reward: 30,000 Gold"_.

"Quite the looker, I know" Erenaar joked, lowering herself onto a fur lined stool close to the table rather ungracefully for once and arching her back in a stretch. Thrall was one of the very few people Commander Erenaar felt comfortable lowering her poise around, if only slightly.

"Do we have a name?" Thrall asked, studying the picture before him as Zog and Ty'Jin re-joined the pair, having finished their business.

"Not as of yet" Erenaar sighed, "We asked around of course but the locals seemed decidedly… hushed, on the matter."

"If this is who they're being threatened by, I can hardly say I blame them" Zog added, standing next to Thrall to also observe the parchment.

"Oh I don't know, he kind of reminded me of you a bit, Zog." Erenaar commented, causing the seasoned Orc to look up in surprise at his commander, before seeing the light smile on her face.

"So, what exactly was it you needed my advice on Commander?" Thrall interjected, pulling the her attention back towards him.

"The scouts aren't going to find anything" She stated in a flat tone, the smile gone from her face as she leant in towards the table. "If this militia can kidnap two dozen Orcs in one night without us noticing they can sure as Hell keep us from finding them.".

"Then why did ya order even more men to go lookin' for them Commander?" The unmistakable voice of the Shadow Hunter inquired.

"Morale. Morale and appearances mainly." Erenaar replied, in an offhanded manner, her eyes unmoved from the table that she had once again started to examine.

"You're sure of this Commander?" Thrall asked with a raised eyebrow, ignoring her less than respectful response to the Shadow Hunter. Over his years of working with her, Thrall had learned that the Blood Elf's respect is indeed something that needs to be earned from her; apparently Ty'Jin had not yet had that privilege. _It took me enough years_. He thought to himself.

"Fairly sure." She replied in much the same manner, "Of course there is a chance but… well they're only Orcs after all". If both Zog and Thrall hadn't already long gotten used to her casual sense of humour they may have taken offence to it. "What I need your assistance with Thrall, is taking down this bastard before he captures any more of my men."

"Commander?" At this statement Thrall's confusion had only grown.

"I said that we weren't going to find the location of their hostages and I stand by that." Their Commander explained. "What we do have is several tips as to the location of this militia's base of operations. If we can kill their leader there, the organisation will lose strength and well, organisation; like a Murloc with its head cut off. We can probably negotiate a much better deal to get our men back, or even straight up demand them back if the militia start to scatter."

At this Thrall began to understand the Commander's reasoning, but was still confused as to her request. _Surely she couldn't mean…_

"You want me to infiltrate their base?"

A short laugh left the Commander's lips, one that left the Shadow Hunter quietly wondering about her for not the first time since he arrived. _How can one woman go from speaking with such purpose one moment to making cheap jokes and laughing at military figures the next?_

"Very kind of you to offer, Thrall" she said with a soft look towards the Orc "But you're not exactly who comes to mind when I think of 'discreet infiltration'." Thrall could hardly argue the point, nor did he want to; 'discreet infiltration' were not exactly words in his particular vocabulary, and he had a much bigger vocabulary than most Orcs.

"What I would like you to do Thrall, is attack this outpost with me." At this she lightly tapped a small grey fort figure that had been placed on the map west of Gronn Canyon, signifying an Iron Horde stronghold in the area, a small label attached to it read 'Fort Cain'. "It's a rather weak stronghold, not manned by many so the two of us should be more than enough to take it down."

"And how will a weak stronghold help ya recapture ya men Commander?" The Shadow Hunter probed, half-hoping to find flaw in the Blood Elf's plan. Erenaar kept her eyes lazily focused on the small fort unit as she spoke, still not affording the Shadow Hunter the luxury of eye contact.

"Even these Iron Horde barbarians have a basic sense of battle strategy, Ty'Jin, and when an area with not so many troops is attacked, common sense is to send more troops to said area." Ty'Jin was becoming ever more dissatisfied with the Commander's dismissive tone towards her superiors, irreverence was an trait he had little patience for, and the Commander seemed to posses a lot of it. _Even for a Blood Elf_ , he thought.

"The only other Iron Horde outpost close to Fort Can is over half an hour away, Commander." Warmaster Zog interjected "Sending reinforcements through crag and canyon to reclaim the outpost would be impractical would it not?"

"It would be, which is why the Iron Horde would be sending the militia forces in 'dere place." Ty'Jin nodded, beginning to understanding the Commander's plan.

"Indeed," the young Blood Elf continued "The militia base has been rumoured to be close to Fort Cain, so the chances are the Iron Horde will send them in in place of their own troops, since they apparently have an agreement worked out."

Thrall studied the large circle that had been drawn in western Gorgrond with Fort Cain roughly at the centre; the presumed region that held the Unbroken's base.

"So when they arrive to recapture the fort, we beat them into retreat and have our scouts follow them back to their base," Thrall asserted "a good strategy Commander."

"Well," she replied "That would be heroic, but I imagine the event would play out along a more _let them retake the outpost and wait until they leave of their own accord,_ sort of route. Depends on how merciful I feel on the day." An amused smile found itself on the Commander's face as she envisioned the battle in her head. Swinging and weaving through a crowd of enemies, the weight of her weapon in her hand and the bristling of magic in her fingers; no words or politics, no orders but her own instinct to follow. _I hope at least that much goes to plan_ , she thought.

"My proposed plan is this; we attack Fort Cain and draw the Unbroken militia out of their hiding, we'll of course have all our scouts spread out through the region, an entire squadron of mercenary Orcs charging into battle should be easy enough to spot. Our scouts send word to the Garrison as to where they were hiding and we send a detachment of Orcs of our own to raid it while their forces are absent."

"And us?" Thrall asked, "Do we stay in Fort Cain and attempt to hold off the mercenaries or are we to abandon the area and retreat before they arrive?"

"As I said," Erenaar continued "It depends how merciful I feel on the day."

Thrall quickly analysed the plan in his head, he had always admired the Commander's sense of strategy; _simple, effective, easy to remember_ he concluded, turning to address her fully.

"However the day goes Commander, I'd be glad to fight by your side. It's been too long since we've been out in the field together, I trust your skills with your Hammer haven't rusted since last we fought?" He jested with a smile towards Erenaar.

"Perhaps a little Thrall," She ventured, standing up from the war table to meet his gaze "But they're still not as bad as yours." The two shared a laugh at the quip, and Erenaar found it eased her tired muscles ever so slightly by the humour.

"We'll meet at first light tomorrow if it suits you then," she continued once the laugher had subsided "Our scouts will need to move into position, and I need some time to finish off a few things here." Sensing that the meeting was drawing to a close Zog began to clear the documents away and prepare messages for the scouts to move into position. As he did so, Ty'Jin moved around to the other side of the table where Thrall and Erenaar were finishing up their business.

"Of course Commander, I look forward to it." Thrall concluded, bowing his head slightly as he turned to leave the war room.

 _Well_ , Erenaar thought to herself, watching the Orc leave through the doorway and back into the bitter cold, _There's that sorted. I'd better head back myself, if I don't see a bed and some warm water before the hour's out people may start confusing me for Lilian Voss._ She smiled to herself as she began to walk towards the doorway, remembering how long it had been since she even _heard_ that name. _Perhaps I'm selling myself short,_ she considered, reflecting on just how ugly that poor girl had been, _Lady Sylvanas at the very least._

She was stepping out the door when another thought crossed her mind, _If I plan to get any sleep tonight I'd best be quick about getting to my quarters, else Ty'Jin might try to keep me back and scold me for my 'un-leader-like behaviour' again._

"Commander, a word." The voice came from behind her in that thick Darkspear accent.

 _Of Course._

Erenaar turned, trying to hide her annoyance behind a composed demeanour and giving the Troll eye contact for quite possibly the first time that day.

"Yes?"

"It be about your report, Commander. The Warchief wants it by three days from now, that means this whole militia incident gonna be in it, including how ya dealt with it. If this plan of yours doesn't work, the Warchief will have to be hearin' about it." Erenaar understood that the Troll was only following out his orders, and this was certainly not the first performance review she had been under during her military careers, yet there was one detail irking her.

"I understand that Ty'Jin," she replied in a tone that was soft, yet threatened to betray her growing impatience, "But you have still yet to inform me as to _why_ a report is being conducted on me, does our new Warchief not approve of my conduct? Would he rather somebody else capture half a continent in his name?" She kept her speech neutral and calm, yet as she spoke displeasure started to find its way into her voice, causing her to stop herself short, lest she told the Troll what she was really thinking.

"Watch ya words, Commander." Ty'Jin warned, stepping out of the door frame to join her in the cold, "Da Warchief be more than pleased with your contributions to da war effort here in Draenor, you'd been at the forefront of our army for most of ya life and Vol'Jin recognises that." Erenaar couldn't tell whether the Troll was being genuine with his words, but she maintained a casual expression nonetheless, she would not have a Troll distract her with flattery. "But der have been concerns coming in from ya troops. Days without sleepin', spending weeks out on da field when der are soldiers perfectly capable, and keepin' pleased all of da dozens of factions in Draenor while ya at it. It must be testing, even for somebody like you, Commander. Da Warchief only wonders if ya would be best taking a break for ya own sake, the last time ya took time off from da army was when Hellscream was still in power."

Erenaar's expression didn't shift, she was still regarding the Troll with the same cool poise as before, and as she tilted her head a fraction the right, those cool emerald eyes began to make Ty'Jin feel a slight irrational discomfort, even if none was intended.

"So that's it?" She enquired, with a tone sounding genuinely curious. "Vol'Jin was just concerned for my health? I must say that's very sympathetic of him." Ty'Jin could feel the sarcastic undertone in her words, and hoped for her own sake that she did in fact know the significance of what he had told her.

"Commander, your health don't just affect you anymore." He continued "If you be working yourself too hard, the whole unit gonna suffer for it. If it ain't in _your_ best interests, perhaps it be in ya garrison's best interests that you consider taking some time. Da Warchief trusts ya, Erenaar, but as da Commander of his armies, he be more concerned about ya performance than ya health. If he judges from dis report that da pressure is beginin' to _affect_ ya performance, actions are gonna have to be taken. Maybe it be best if ya apply for a few weeks leave before he makes ya take them."

Erenaar lowered her head towards the ground and smiled for a moment, composing herself for a few seconds before meeting the Troll's gaze again, the pleasant smile still on her lips.

"Thank you for the advice Ty'Jin," she eventually said, once again keeping her voice calm and considered "Although the Warchief should realise that securing an entire continent full of battle trained Orcs _is_ quite the pressing task, you'll forgive me if after almost eight months of it I'm beginning to feel 'da pressure', as you put it." Ty'Jin narrowed his eyes at the Commander, he was beginning to see that like most Blood Elves, Erenaar tended to keep a poised disposition up at all times, even when ulterior intention were present. She had dropped it slightly in the War Room when talking to Thrall, but around him alone she appeared inclined to keep her harsher emotions to herself.

"Regardless Ty'Jin," She continued "If the outcome of this 'Unbroken' incident will be included in the report as you said, I believe I'll let my actions speak for my performance on this occasion. Now, if there isn't anything else?"

Ty'Jin stood for a few seconds longer, regarding the Blood Elf as a source of interest, as if trying to work out exactly what the woman standing before him really felt on the matter.

"No Commander, that be all."

"Well then, I wish you a pleasant night Ty'Jin." She concluded, giving the troll an amiable smile before turning around and walking in the direction of her quarters. The Shadow Hunter stood there, watching her walk away with natural grace, guards and soldiers bowing their heads to her as she passed. _Perhaps there be more to this woman than meets the eye, Vol'Jin was right in keeping an eye on her._

 **III**

The door closed behind Erenaar, shutting out the cold of Frostwall and the noise of the garrison, finally giving her a moment's peace. She walked to the middle of the room and began unclipping the various buckles and belts that held her paladin's armour in place, when she had first started using plate armour the process had taken her almost twenty minutes each time, and even longer to put back on. But since then the procedure had become muscle memory, to the point where she could find and undo every fastening on her armour with her eyes closed. Piece by piece she slid the various sections of the flame coated plate off her slender body and onto the stand that stood in the corner of her room, feeling the weight being lifted off her with each piece. Erenaar loved that armour, she had it commissioned from her own designs for her Master Paladin ceremony; every flame, colour, gradient and angle had been meticulously designed by her over the course of several weeks, each section drawn to scale over several pieces of canvas. It was that day she earned her own unique title; it was a customary practise for all high ranking paladins, but Erenaar had always been particularly proud for hers. _Erenaar, of the Ashen Verdict._

She let out a long overdue sigh as she lifted the breastplate over her head, her armour finally off and her body feeling much lighter. _Perhaps Ty'Jin has a point_ she pondered to herself, stretching her supple arms above her head with a slight moan, _Some time away from this might do me good, but where would I go? I suppose I could return to Eversong, it's been too long since I dined on some Sin'Dorei cuisine. Ah, but my family would most likely expect me to visit them at that rate._ She let her arms fall to her sides, standing there in the simple tunic and pair of cloth pants that she typically wore under her plate, both a faded crimson colour that even in their worn condition made her silver hair seem to shine like silk. _I think I'd rather stay with Ty'Jin than that._

She moved through a small door frame that led to an adjoining room, where a hot bath was already waiting for her. She tugged on a lace and let her remaining clothes fall to the ground as she walked towards it, the steam already easing her muscles.

 _Perhaps this will do for now._

* * *

 **So, chapter one. After reading it back in hindsight I know that there are definitely a few revisions I'd like to make to a few parts, mainly in character portrayal. When I find the time I'll definitely come back and make them, but I'd love to get some reviews in first before I go changing things.**

 **For those of you wondering, this is the character that Erenaar's based off:** **wow/en/character/tarren-mill/Erenaar/simple**

 **But why would you bother looking at that? Chapter two is up, and I had an absolute blast writing it, so go have fun reading it!**

 **Oh yeah and another warning; I write slow as shit.**

 **DISCLAIMER:**

 **World of Warcraft, its universe and its content are the property of Blizzard Entertainment and I claim none of them as my creations, with the exception of the Original Characters and specific plot of this story; which has been created as a public, non-profitable fan work.**


	2. Chapter 2 - According to Plan

**Hello again you!**

 **If you've gotten through Chapter One and haven't given up hope yet then here's the next instalment, its almost double the length of Chapter One. I don't know, I had a plan set out in my head of exactly what I wanted to happen in this chapter, it just ended up taking more words to convey it than I thought it would.**

 **Still, thanks for getting this far and have fun getting even further, I'll see you in the footer.**

* * *

 _He came charging towards her through the chaos, this fool of courage and valour – his greatsword held vertical at his side as he closed the distance between him and the Blood Elf with impressive speed. Erenaar hear his warcry through the turmoil of their surroundings and turned towards him with gritted teeth, preparing to face the new danger running towards her. He was a human, built like a mountain and clad in silver plate armour emblazoned with the proud lion of Stormwind City, judging by the blood splattered across his armour and coating his sword, he had already claimed several lives that day. Shifting the full weight of her warhammer into her right hand, Erenaar began her own charge towards him across the scorched rock of Outland with precious little time for hesitation, quickly closing the distance to a mere few feet between them, knowing that within a few moments only one of them would be breathing, as the battle raged on around them._

 _The Human raised his gleaming sword above his shoulder before bringing it down in a forceful slash, the steel seeming to slice through the air itself as it coursed its way towards Erenaar's neck. Not faltering at the blade swinging towards her, Erenaar dropped into a roll towards him, the sword passing through the air above her where she had been mere moments ago. The human stumbled forward, his momentum forcing him to move further than he anticipated as the Blood Elf came out of her roll on one knee and brought her Warhammer crashing into the side of his leg, feeling the splinter of his bones as the plate buckled upon impact. Letting out a cry of agony, he fell forward, his weight taken out from under him as he hit the ground with force, his greatsword still clutched in his hand. The Blood Elf stood and allowed herself the briefest moment to catch her breath after narrowly avoiding death while quickly scanning the battle around her for any other immediate threats, watching as her fellow Blood Elves engaged with the enemy confronting them while keeping the position of the fallen human in mind. Erenaar had not been a soldier for long, but she knew not to take moments like this during a battle for granted, moments where a stray arrow or an unexpected dagger could take you down as easy as the strongest warrior._

 _Groaning with pain, the human rolled onto his back and propped himself up with his elbows, meeting eyes with Erenaar as she turned to face him once more, her brief reprieve over and a stoic expression on her face. Without hesitation, he swung his greatsword with his right hand in her direction, hoping to create a distance between them that he had been so eager to close only seconds ago, taking her lack of attention towards him as a lowered guard. The sword clanged against the head of her hammer which Erenaar had swung into its path, swiftly stopping it in its course with a piercing clang. Using her natural speed to her advantage the Blood Elf quickly recoiled the hammer and pivoted towards her right, putting the full force of her body into arcing it into the humans arm, who had been frantically trying to quickly shift his position into a defence. The greatsword went flying from his grasp as his he let out another roar of pain and clutched at his shattered arm, his face contorted in agony as the clamour of the battle seemed to fade around him, the footsteps of the Blood Elf's armoured boots closing those last few precious feet between them being the only sound his mind seemed capable of focusing on. Taking all the effort he could muster, he raised his head upwards and met the Blood Elf's gaze, her emerald eyes the last sight he ever saw, as her hammer came crashing down towards him one final time._

Erenaar woke with a start, her emerald eyes snapping open as she lay in bed, staring up at the wooden ceiling of her quarters as her sight began to readjust to the harsh morning light. She lay there for a few moments, slowing her breath from the adrenaline of the dream as she listened to the distant sounds of steel clashing with steel from the Orcs training outside. It had been a long time since Erenaar had relived that day, certainly not since her assignment in Gorgrond some months ago. Laying there under the various furs that served as her covers she had to admit that its sudden resurgence had taken her by surprise, although she had long since grown accustomed to the recurring dream, its vividness sometimes managed to catch her off guard. Reliving ones first kill was a common but rarely a pleasant experience, although after so many years Erenaar had built a usually taciturn attitude towards it.

The Blood Elf closed her eyes again, letting out a small sigh as her mind began to fill with the issues and obstacles of the day ahead that had been kept at bay by the momentary respite of sleep; including the usual concerns that resided permanently in the back of her head and never failed to come running to the forefront of her thoughts whenever she wasn't keeping herself occupied. With a weary resignation, she shuffled the thoughts away and instead focused on the present, sliding her legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up, ignoring the selfish voice inside her head that beckoned her back to sleep and warmth and peace. She glanced at the armour that hung at the other side of her room, a solemn yet constant representation of her duty that at times like this seemed to exert a non-negotiable argument towards her; to get up, to serve and fight rather than remain in her desired comfort. Allowing herself only one more moment of relative peace, Erenaar obeyed and stood up from her bed, ready to prepare for the day ahead.

 **III**

Meanwhile, on the other side of the camp from Erenaar's quarters, Thrall paced along a line of Orc soldiers all standing to attention; their gazes fixed forward. The fresh morning's snow crunched beneath his heavy boots as he walked, with yet more of the stuff falling softly onto his shoulders from above, causing him to shiver as he inspected the soldiers. Before him were the fifty men that had been chosen to assault the Unbroken's stronghold while he and Erenaar provided distraction; the best fifty men in the garrison. _Or what's left of it,_ Thrall considered as he came to a halt at the front of the formation, his inspection complete. He'd always preferred to know the men he'd be working with, and amongst the fifty assembled Thrall could recognise a few faces - ones who had been a part of the initial wave to enter Draenor. It had been a gruelling few months since then, and Thrall knew that any man still here after that was either incredibly strong or incredibly lucky. He also knew that they'd need both for the Commander's plan to work.

The sun hung low in sky behind the formation, in the direction Thrall was now facing; its position causing a harsh light to be reflected upwards from the newly fallen snow that blanketed the roofs and any ground that hadn't already been trampled by the peons going about their morning assignments. It did little to stay the persistent biting sensation of the constant cold however, and from his position Thrall could observe the frequent shivers that passed through the men in front of him. Were it up to him, Thrall would have had the men waiting inside the barracks, where they could be warmed by the hearth or even by a drink, but it wasn't the case. He had received the orders on his way to his own quarters late last night from Viviane, the Undead that handled information around the garrison - according to her the Commander wanted him to assemble the men at sunrise in the yard and await her arrival. Thrall hoped that'd be soon.

"Dis be the force you be taking with ya?" a voice behind him called, causing Thrall to turn his head around to face it. Even through the fresh snow he hadn't heard Ty'Jin's approach, although he quickly put it down to the Troll being a Shadow Hunter famed for his stealth and certainly not his own distraction.

"Indeed it is, the Commander passed on a shortlist to Viviane last night." Thrall explained to the Troll as he arrived and stood by his side, regarding to troops casually. Ty'Jin had spent most of his military career away from organised platoons, and although he could gather little information from observing the men as a result, even he could tell that those gathered must have been among the strongest the Horde had left in Draenor, although that wasn't saying much. Securing Draenor had been an uphill struggle from the start, even with the initial assistance of the Alliance; a few months into the invasion and both sides were struggling to keep the land they'd claimed. Although there had been no official word, Ty'Jin was sure that the Alliance forces had been facing setbacks too – there was even talks in Orgrimmar High Command about combining forces with them for one final push if the Commander's plan fell though. He hoped for her sake that wouldn't be the case, for all his personal disagreements with the Blood Elf Ty'Jin couldn't fault her military capabilities.

"So where exactly is our Commander at, surely she doesn't expect us to wait in dis cold for much longer?" Ty'Jin asked the Orc, he didn't want to wait in the cold for any longer than he had to.

"On her way, I would imagine," Thrall answered, "Commander Erenaar is a very firm believer of the term 'fashionably late'."

Ty'Jin let out a small grunt to express his dissatisfaction, in his mind there was 'on time' and there was 'late', fashion didn't much come into it. He admitted to himself though that he should probably afford the Commander some slack; after all, the words he said last night had been honest ones. Ty'Jin understood the pressures she was under and knew for a fact that her work was appreciated and even admired by many officials in the Horde. Taking this into account he supposed that a certain level of irreverence on her part could be forgiven, if not expected even. However he also knew that the Commander's particular attitude of late most definitely went beyond this level, which was part of the reason he had joined Thrall this morning in the first place.

He quickly glanced around him to check that the Commander wasn't approaching, and turned to address the Orc.

"Thrall, I've been meaning to ask ya something about da Commander, for the report ya understand." He started, causing Thrall to turn to face him.

"I would have thought you gathered all you need when you asked me last week?" He replied, raising an eyebrow slightly at the Shadow Hunter's request. Other than the mandatory comments Thrall had been asked to pass on to Ty'Jin as Erenaar's second in command the other week, the Troll had taken little note of his opinions. Whatever it was that Ty'Jin was about to ask, Thrall doubted it was for the sake of the report as he claimed.

"Aye, your review of da situation was most helpful Thrall. But dis be on a different matter, one I'd appreciate your input on," Ty'Jin paused for a moment, before continuing in a slightly lowered tone. "Especially while our Commander not be present."

At this, Thrall's suspicions were only raised, but so too was his interest. While he didn't like going behind the Commander's back, he was more than a little curious as to what exactly Ty'Jin's concerns were and whether or not they were justified. After a moment, he decided to at least hear the Shadow Hunter out, not that he'd had much choice anyway.

"I'd be happy to share my opinion on the matter then, whatever this particular matter may be."

"I'm glad to hear it, as ya may of guessed it be about the Commander's recent performance; this plan of hers included. You were with the Commander when our forces first entered Draenor and ya been with her ever since; in all that time, ya noticed any changes in her? Behaviour, strategies, appearance, anything? It be seeming to me from what I've heard that while she be achieving outstanding progress day by day, it may comin' at a cost, namely a decline to her own health. I need to know what affect this charge be having on our army's Commander, so it be important that ya be honest with me Thrall, it be in everyone's best interests that she be kept to the best of her abilities."

Thrall kept eye contact with the Troll, but took a moment to think before replying. Thrall had been watching Erenaar fight and Command for years, since before the great cataclysm, and in that time he'd gotten to know her well, as a soldier and more recently as a friend. Ty'Jin was right, she was one of the best that the Horde had and it was in everyone's interests that she be kept up to her best, but he knew that 'best' was most likely where she was not right now. Erenaar _had_ changed since the Draenor offensive had begun, in ways even Thrall could notice; her usual wit while still there had been seemingly pushed aside for the pleasant, neutral way of speaking she'd been made to adopt for the countless diplomatic talks she'd had to attend in Warspear, and the glow that seemed to motivate her forwards and push those around her to strive towards their best seemed to have been dimmed by the harsh nights and extreme conditions of Draenor. The Blood Elf was worn out, but was refusing to rest until the job was done, which in their case would be some time. Thrall had come to terms with this, he didn't need Ty'Jin's prompts to notice changes in somebody he'd known for years. The reason he hadn't mentioned anything is that Thrall knew Erenaar, and he knew war, it had effects on people; it wore them out, that's how war is - Erenaar wasn't a special case. It was because of this that he knew her changes were superficial only, once the war was over and she'd taken time to clear her head Thrall had no doubt she'd return to the sarcastic, contemptuous individual that the officers hated. What did concern him was whether she'd reach a breaking point before the war ended, all eyes were on her now and he'd hate to see her fall after achieving so much throughout Azeroth over the years, he didn't know whether Erenaar was capable of dealing with such failure, he very much doubted she'd ever had to.

Aware that Ty'Jin was still awaiting his response though, Thrall removed himself from his thoughts to respond to the Shadow Hunter's question.

"The Commander has changed since we launched the offensive, yes. But you may pass on my honest opinion to the Warchief that he doesn't need to worry about her, she's more resilient than most people realise. It's war Ty'Jin, nobody's prospering from this, all we can do is cope and that's exactly what she's doing."

Ty'Jin looked out at the formation of men to consider Thrall's words; the men were still standing in place despite the frigid cold, awaiting their Commander. _It seems your loyalty be shared, Thrall._ He thought to himself, but before he could properly respond to the Orc's answer, a voice came from behind the two, breaking him from his momentary thought.

"Talking behind my back again Thrall?" Erenaar asked with a smile on her face as she approached the two from the same direction Ty'Jin had come from. She was clad in her usual armour, freshly cleaned and polished one could almost mistake the iron flames that rose from her pauldrons for real fire the way the mornings light danced and gleamed off them as she walked.

"Only good things I assure you, Commander." Thrall replied, bowing his head slightly as she stood by his side and noting how much more like herself she looked after finally getting some sleep. "The men have been summoned, as you requested."

"I see that, I hope you weren't waiting too long for me. And you Ty'Jin, I trust the morning finds you well?" She added, extending a similar smile towards him, if not a slightly more forced one. For a moment though, the Shadow Hunter seemed surprised at the pleasantry, even if it was only half genuine. _Perhaps a night's sleep really did make a difference,_ he speculated, not wanting to doubt the Commander for being pleasant with him for once.

"I'm well Commander, thought I'd join ya for da final briefing." He responded, trying to match her courteousness.

"Indeed, I'm sure that's the only reason you're here." She returned with the same cordial tone, already turning away from him to continue her conversation with Thrall, signalling that her momentary business with him was now finished.

Ty'Jin frowned at the display. _Or perhaps not._ Still, her statement wasn't actually wrong, although until now he hadn't planned on announcing it.

"Actually Commander, there was a second reason I chose to attend ya briefing." He continued, calling her focus back towards him. "I be volunteering to join the scouting party you'll be using in locating this base. I believe ya got one more band yet to leave."

At this, Erenaar fully turned her attention towards the Shadow Hunter, and an inquisitive look spread across both her face and Thrall's. Ty'Jin had been in the Garrison for a few weeks gathering what he needed for his report to the Warchief, and in all that time he'd never once offered to help with their field work. Erenaar couldn't help but look for an ulterior motive.

"May I ask what has caused this sudden bout of fellowship?" She asked him, her tone for once not one of sarcasm or mocking but of genuine curiosity towards his offer.

"Don't act so surprised Commander," Ty'Jin explained in a somewhat indignant tone, "I be a part of da Horde just as much as you, be it so shocking that I want to help in more ways than conducting reports for da Warchief?"

"Well," Erenaar began, her face clearly portraying an air of doubt, "Considering I've never actually seen you do anything other than conduct reports for the Warchief; yes. I do find the gesture rather surprising. It can get rather messy out there, you know."

Ty'Jin immediately let out an annoyed grunt, by now he was more than aware of the Commander's loosely derisive attitude, but he felt that now she was being simply offensive for the sake of it. Even though for some reason a part of him believed it wasn't truly meant to challenge him, for not the first time he wondered if Blood Elves were simply more affrontave with their jokes than he was used to. Even so, he wasn't going to forgive the comment.

"I be trying to offer my help here Commander, you be undermanned as it is and this mission's success be more important to you than it is to me. I would have expected some gratitude here, if ya not want my help I'll retract the offer." He asserted, for not the first time showing his displeasure at the Commander's irreverence.

For a moment though Erenaar didn't respond, but only regarded Ty'Jin with those cool, emerald eyes; as if still trying to figure something out about him. Before long though, she replied to the Shadow Hunter, her voice calm.

"Perhaps you're right Ty'Jin." She began, "I suppose I should welcome what help I can get on this occasion, and for what it's worth; I apologise for the comment." Again she paused, appearing slightly uncomfortable about being apologetic, and clearly trying to hide it, "But nonetheless, Scouting Band 4 is indeed preparing to leave through the rear gate as we speak, if you're still offering, you may take command of them for the excursion."

Now it was Ty'Jin's turn to think, keeping eye contact with the Commander as if waiting for her to falsify the sentiment with some sarcastic addendum, or joke about its meaning. But as he realised that no such comment was coming, he too relaxed his tone to a more civil one.

"Aye, I'll still take the position." He paused for a moment before adding, "Good luck, Commander." And with that, he nodded to both her and Thrall, then began to walk towards the rear of the garrison, following his previous footprints that had already begun to fade under the falling snow.

"Ty'Jin." Erenaar called out once a few moments had passed, "If I hear that you even _mentioned_ the word 'report' out there, I'll send you to the Iron Horde with a ribbon on your head."

Ty'Jin didn't respond to the comment, or even turn around to hear it. Instead, he simply gave a small chuckle as he continued to walk, for once being able to tell the difference between the Commander's jokes and her intents.

Neither Thrall or the Commander said anything for a few moments. The latter taking a moment to consider the conversation that had just happened, her talks with Ty'Jin rarely extended more than a few insignificant remarks on either side, and now she felt herself wondering whether she should have paid the Troll more heed during these last few weeks. Thrall on the other hand had long since learned to recognise when Erenaar was in thought, and decided to wait until she had finished processing on this occasion, although he himself was also rather taken aback with what he had just witnessed. It was by no means the first time Thrall had seen his friend drop her regular demeanour for a genuine apology or to show humility, but it was the first time in a while he had seen it to somebody that she hardly knew. Without much warning though, Erenaar suddenly turned to face him, back to her usual self seemingly without much effort.

"Well," she started, "That certainly was unexpected. But I believe we've had our men standing here long enough don't you think?"

"I certainly don't envy them that's for sure. Although then again we're the ones single-handedly taking on a stronghold." He replied with a smile as the two of them walked closer to the front of the formation - until now they had been standing on an area of the garrison that was slightly overlooking the main courtyard where the men were assembled. Rather than address them from above however, Erenaar began to walk down the decline towards them, approaching their eye level as she neared the foremost line of the formation, to be positioned directly in front of them.

"My apologies for your wait, I appreciate that the climate isn't ideal for standing around so I'll forsake the grandiose speech on your behalf. You're all aware on the plan; Thrall and I will be attacking Fort Cain and holding it under siege until the Iron Horde take notice, when they do they'll send their 'Unbroken' forces to take it back, since they're based much closer. Now there are scouting regiments already spread all across the area, so as soon as this happens they'll be able to notify us as to where they're emerging from." At this Erenaar pulled out a small flare gun that had been holstered in her belt until now and held it up so all the men could see it. "These are a present from our friends down in the Bilgewater Cartel, brought in on my request; all the scouts have already been equipped with them. Even through the jungle canopy I'm told that a shot from these'll burn brighter than Deathwing's Bollocks so I'm sure they'll be hard to miss."

She paused for a few seconds while the men in front of her laughed at the remark, not that she'd intended it to be particularly funny; in her mind it was probably an apt comparison.

"Each scout has a red flare, the first one you see in the sky means that they've found the entrance to the base, on that signal you move out. You follow it to the base, you burn it to the ground and if you meet any resistance along the way? Well, _Lok'tar Ogar_ sums it up nicely I believe."

The men in the line closest to her nodded at the statement, Erenaar knew how brutally efficient an Orc could be in combat – especially in large numbers. She also knew that she didn't need to worry about them leading the battle on their own, they were loyal men – and loyal to her above all else. She started pacing along the frontmost line as she talked, the soldiers heads following her as she did.

"There's only one exception to the rule; the leader of every scouting party has been given a yellow flare shot in addition to the red; Ty'Jin, Thrall and myself included. If you see that in the air, you retreat. No exceptions, I don't care how far in you are or how many you have left to kill, if you see yellow streaking across the sky you re-group and you run. Is that understood?"

She came to a stop, facing the formation as the roar of the men echoed back to her, "Aye, Commander!".

For a moment, Erenaar didn't speak, but instead swept one more look across the men – looking each briefly in the eye as she did. If the men in front of her failed, no amount of effort on her part could redeem them, and the same went for her. She didn't know what would happen if the next few hours turned against her, and right now she didn't want to think about it. Her military career would not come to an end over a few ridiculous rumours floating around Orgrimmar, she wouldn't let that happen and if it did, Erenaar was certain she'd burn the city to the ground herself.

Without a word, she extended her right arm to her side, feeling the energy flow through the limb and into her hand, forming an invisible knot in her palm which she held towards the ground. With a flick of her wrist, the energy shot towards the ground as a black ball of swirling arcane power, extending within a second to cover the frozen ground beneath her in a perfect circle that seemed to mirror a whole different dimension within it. Most of the men had seen the spell before, but even so, as the black smoke and dark flames that rose rapidly from the circle began to form the armoured frame of the Thalassian Charger, none could help but be impressed.

Within the blink of an eye the summoning was complete, and the men watched as Erenaar swiftly climbed atop the horse of deepest black, whose eyes burned with an unholy fire and whose heart beat with untameable intent. The armour it wore matched the Commander's perfectly, and it gleamed and danced with the same familiar fires of every shade imaginable, to the point where anyone beholding the sight of the two together could swear that both rider and mount were forged from the same flame.

At last, from atop her mount Erenaar spoke back to her soldiers, with a vigour in her voice that all listening knew was genuine, "If we do this men, we could be back in Azeroth within the month, and you can have my word that Warchief Vol'Jin will be thanking each of you personally when we arrive, not as soldiers – but as heroes."

The Orcs roared with pride as they thrust their axes and swords above their heads in unison, the promise of glory and recognition for their efforts being more than enough to motivate them towards battle. Even Thrall found himself adding to the shout as he watched his friend smile at the response, spurring her horse into a gallop towards to main gate with the men swiftly in tow, keeping their rank perfectly. Whatever concerns Ty'Jin had raised to him earlier swiftly left his head as he too began to summon his own mount, with a grand deal less flashiness his friend, eager to follow her towards whatever lay ahead.

 **III**

God it was hot. Like really, _really_ hot. Maybe he was feeling the heat more because he'd grown accustomed to the climate of Frostwall in the last few weeks, but right now, crouched behind the thick shrubbery that covered the floor of Gorgrond's Jungle Ty'Jin only had one thought on his mind.

"God it's hot." He mumbled to himself, keeping an eye on the small clearing ahead of him, he'd been scouting the location for a few minutes after following some boot-prints towards it from all over the jungle. Unfortunately though, there didn't seem to be much in it; a fallen tree lay across the centre of the clearing, which itself was only 50 metres wide at the most, and a pile of large rocks lay against the hill on the southern edge, no man made structures seemed to be present at all. _Another dead end,_ he thought to himself, wiping off the beads of sweat that had been slowly falling down his forehead, it was a mystery to him how a few miles could make such a drastic change in temperature possible.

He was broken from his thoughts when a short noise suddenly came from some distance behind him, causing his ears to instinctively twitch in the direction it had come from.

"Whoever ya are," he said aloud "Ya gonna need to work on ya sneakin' before ya catch me by surprise."

There were a few more rustling noises in the same direction before a young goblin appeared through the underbrush next to Ty'Jin, who hadn't taken his eyes off the clearing.

"My apologies, Commander." She replied, tugging quite painfully on a twig that had gotten tangled in her hair, "I haven't been at this long."

"Da Iron Horde won't forgive ya so easily." He responded casually, finally giving up on his surveillance to face the scout fully. She was average height for a goblin, which was to say not very, even crouching Ty'Jin was still a good foot taller than her – tall enough to see the remaining foliage still caught in her knotted, white hair.

For a moment the goblin didn't say anything back, but remained facing Ty'Jin, seemingly content with her apology as good conversation.

"Well?" He prompted after a few moments of expectant silence, "Have ya sometin' to report?"

At this she seemed to come online again, as if suddenly remembering why she'd approached the Shadow Hunter in the first place.

"Oh yeah!" She exclaimed in a high voice, far too loud for Ty'Jin's liking, "I'm from Band C, my leader sent me to find you with a message of utmost importance."

"Oh?" he replied, starting to be actually interested in the message enough to give her his full attention.

"Yep," she continued, clearly proud to be handling such important information. "He wanted you to know that they haven't found anything yet".

Again silence hung over the conversation, although this time Ty'Jin was its instigator, staring at the beaming little goblin with a look somewhere between disbelief and sympathy. It wasn't long before her smile fell to a look of realisation, then to a demoralised slouch.

"It wasn't an important message was it?" She said quietly, looking towards the ground instead of meeting Ty'Jin's gaze.

"Not particularly." He admitted, feeling almost sorry for the woman but by no means expressing it.

"He just wanted me busy for a while, huh?"

"I imagine so." Ty'Jin finished, waiting for a moment before deciding that he wasn't equipped to deal with this conversation and turning back towards the clearing, scanning it for movement. A few minutes passed while Ty'Jin continued his observations; listening through the chirps of the hundreds of insects that called the jungle home for sounds of movement and focusing on every gap of the dense green foliage for something larger. Ty'Jin was sure the base entrance should be around here, all the tracks he'd found led towards this area, even if it didn't become revealed until Erenaar's plan set into motion, the base had to be around here. Nevertheless, he continued looking, noticing every minute movement that went on around him, all the while trying painfully hard to forget that the goblin was still standing silently next to him, probably damaged for life by their talk but having nowhere to move to.

Eventually he gave up on his effort and sighed, turning to face her again, "We be movin' up, stick close and keep a look out" he paused for a moment as if preparing himself before continuing, "I could use ya help."

The goblin looked up at Ty'Jin as he moved off without another word, her expression one of joy dangerously approaching idolisation at his offer. Without another thought, she followed him further into the jungle, already imagining how useful she was going to be.

 **III**

"I just don't like it." Erenaar explained as she and Thrall rode side by side on their mounts through the dense jungle.

"It's hardly a recent addition, Erenaar." He replied, watching as the large riding wolf under him sniffed the ground in front of them for scents.

"I know, I know. And you're well within your rights to keep it, I mean it's not my decision. I just… I don't like it."

Thrall frowned slightly at his friend's words; by no means offended by them, if anything he was slightly curious about why her opinion was what it was.

"You think it's bad?" He asked, trying to better understand her thoughts.

"Not _bad_ per se." She responded, " But it's a bit… old."

"Old?"

"It makes you look old."

His frown increasing Thrall moved his left hand up to his chin, pulling forward slightly on the thick black hairs of his beard so he could see them better from his perspective.

"Maybe you're right." He sighed, looking over at Erenaar with a slightly concerned look. "You think I'd look better if I shaved it?"

"You look fine Thrall." She said, sounding as though she was trying to reassure him but also acting somewhat defensively towards her own words. "You're the best looking Orc I've met, even if that isn't saying much _at all._ "

"Thanks." He mumbled, with a good degree of indignation at the emphasis she put on the last words.

"And if you like the look then keep it, I mean it's not my facial hair – what do I know about beards?"

Thrall nodded slightly at his friend's attempt to cover her words, still looking downwards at the long black hairs, wondering if maybe she had a point.

"All I'm saying Thrall," she continued, "Is that, yes, keep the beard if you like it - I mean maybe it's an Orc thing, maybe it's a shaman thing, maybe it's a guy thing. I not any of those things. But as your friend, I just-"

"You don't like it."

"Right."

The two continued in relative silence for a while, their conversation having reached a mutual conclusion. They'd left the men in position a while back, so they'd be ready whenever the reinforcements came, right now they were only a few minutes away from Fort Cain's position, although the heat and the flora surrounding them seemed to be doing its best to slow them. Taking a small square of cloth from her pouch, Erenaar wiped a few droplets of sweat from her forehead that had begun to form. _I can't very well go into battle looking sweaty_ she thought to herself, _Some of the Orcs might notice, and then where would I be?_

"I'll shave it off." Thrall suddenly announced, catching Erenaar's attention. "The beard. I'll shave it off."

"Oh," she replied, "You sure you-"

"If you trim your eyebrows."

"What?" Erenaar exclaimed, snapping her head towards him and staring at Thrall with a look approaching disgust.

"Your eyebrows," he continued, looking straight ahead and trying desperately not to laugh at her reaction, "I've never understood why you elves need such long eyebrows, it's just impractical. I mean, they're _eyebrows_."

Erenaar didn't respond, but kept staring at him with a look of pure confusion as they moved.

"I don't… How could even think that?" She eventually responded, "What in your head tells you that that's an okay thought to have?". She turned back to facing forwards, genuinely not sure how to deal with the information. "My eyebrows are beautiful." She said, confirming the fact more to herself than to Thrall.

"Commander." Thrall eventually said.

She didn't respond.

"I just don't like them."

Erenaar pulled tightly on her charger's reins, bringing her to a sudden stop - causing Thrall to do the same a few seconds later when he realised. Slowly, she raised her head to face him.

"I hate you."

Thrall burst into hearty laughter, unable to hide his amusement at his friend's expense anymore, fully aware that the noise could draw attention but by no means able to stop it. It was a while before he managed to get himself under control, all whilst his friend sat staring at him, but steadily he met Erenaar's gaze.

"I'm sorry." He said, a wide smile still on his face, laughter threatening to resurface with every breath.

For a moment Erenaar didn't look as if she shared his amusement, but as she prompted her horse to start moving again a small smile began to form while she shook her head slightly at the whole affair.

"Come on Gul'Dan," she called as she passed him, "We've a bit to go yet."

"Gul'Dan? I'm not _that_ ol-" Thrall stopped mid-sentence as both he and Erenaar turned their heads sharply to their left, from where a small snapping sound had just came through the thick of the Jungle.

Neither of them moved, both scanning among the trees and shrubs in front of them for the source of the noise, this close to the Fort they didn't like the chances of it merely being an animal; the possibility that the noise came from an Iron Horde scout was too high. Erenaar moved her eyes across the wilderness, looking for even the tiniest movement… when that what exactly what she saw. Through the ticket of green leaves and vines ahead of her she saw the smallest flicker – the blink of an eye.

"There!" She shouted, raising her palm towards the shrub as a bolt of holy light shot towards it, hitting it in less than a second and throwing it apart into scorched leaves – just in time for them to see the scout running away from it further into the jungle, having anticipated the attack and abandoned the cover only a moment before. They both kicked into the sides of their mounts and charged after him as he ducked behind a thick tree, narrowly avoiding another Holy bolt that went crashing into it's side. Thrall got to the tree first, his wolf having the advantage through the uneven terrain as he leapt around it, landing directly where the scout was… or at least where he should have been.

Thrall looked around him through the trees for a sign of the man, but as Erenaar caught up to his side he realised why he couldn't see him.

"He's a damn rogue." Thrall cursed irritably, "There's no way we're finding him now."

"Well then," Erenaar said, drawing her warhammer out of its clasp on her belt and holding it by her side, "There goes the element of surprise."

Thrall nodded, drawing Doomhammer in a similar fashion - if they were quick, they might be able to close the remaining distance to the fort before the rogue alerted it, but they both knew it was unlikely, he probably knew a much quicker way back than they did. Regardless, without another word they both spurred their mounts forward, leading them into a sprint towards the direction of the fort, if it wasn't for the thick canopy above them the battlements would probably already be visible, but from their view only more jungle could be seen in front of them.

"Do we have an assault plan Commander?" Thrall called to her as they raced straight ahead, constantly veering in one direction or the other to avoid the dozens of trees in their path, missing each by only inches.

"Not as such, no." She called back, leaning forward as her charger jumped a fallen tree, then landed and continued the sprint without a missing a pace. "Generally," she continued "We kill people with hammers and try not to die ourselves, but make sure you leave enough people to sound the alarm – we want to draw as much attention as possible after all."

"Never been much of an issue with us before, in fact I'd say we're already off to a good start!" He responded, loud enough for her to hear through the few metres of foliage between them. From her charger, Erenaar laughed, her silver ponytail whipping behind her in the wind as she leaned in even closer, picking up yet more speed to the point where dodging the oncoming trees left only a hair's breadth between collision. She kept her eyes focused forward, the speed she was moving filling her body with enough adrenaline to keep a constant smile on her face as she rode towards the fort, making it not long at all until glimpses of moss covered stone began to peek through the gaps of the vines and trees ahead.

"It's up ahead!" She called behind her, having overtaken Thrall slightly in the run up. "I think we might have beaten that rogue bac-" She was cut off before she could finish by the sound of horns blaring from the structure ahead. "Or not." She said to herself as Thrall steadily caught up to her from her left, having now matched her speed.

"Where's the main gate?" He asked, aware that they may well be charging at full speed towards the back end of the structure, which was becoming ever more clear as the jungle began to thin.

"Oh Thrall, gates are for people with no imagination." She responded with a knowing smile directed towards him.

Thrall returned the smile, "Brace yourself, Commander."

Without much warning the jungle suddenly cleared, leaving them only twenty metres or so away from the wall but now with no cover to protect them. Above them, half a dozen Orcish crossbowmen appeared over the battlements, alerted by the still blaring horn of their approach.

"Aim!" They heard one of the Orcs yell from over the wall, and as they did all six raised their crossbows to point directly at them, keeping the two within their sights them as they got closer.

Aware that they were fully in the open, Thrall moved one of his hands from the reins of his riding wolf and begun to gather a swirling stream of nature energy around his arm, the magic forming like a snake coiling around the limb and back again in an endless cycle as the two continued to speed towards the wall. When they were only seconds away from collision, the sound of a second order rang from the battlements above.

"Fire!" Shouted the Commander inside the Fort, as all six of the men pulled their triggers, sending arrows shooting downwards towards Erenaar and Thrall.

"Now!" Erenaar yelled, not even a second after the order was given. Without hesitating, Thrall slammed his arm downwards, sending the energy twisting and cascading into the ground beneath them, calling on the Earth spirits that he had become so familiar with. The second it connected, the very Earth under their feet shot up, rapidly extending upwards towards the sky, carrying the two riders with it as the crossbow bolts hit uselessly below them. In under a second the pillar reached its peak a few metres below the edge of the wall, as both Thrall's wolf and Erenaar's charger leaped forwards at an angle towards the wall, the momentum of the earth under them giving them more than enough height to easily clear the battlements. They landed behind the six crossbowmen, four of which were frantically trying to load new bolts into their weapons while the other two drew crude, worn looking axes from their belt – all six, Erenaar noted, looked terrified.

Without missing a beat Erenaar and Thrall rode towards them, each brandishing their warhammers in one hand off the side of their respective mounts. Thrall hit first, catching the Orc closest to him in the centre of the chest with a downwards swing as he tried desperately to raise his crossbow towards him, the combined force of Thrall's strength and the wolf's momentum being more than enough to knock the Orc onto his back with more than a few broken bones. He then turned his wolf to the right, facing the two Orcs who had taken the initiative to draw their axes, both of which stared him down for a few seconds with vicious expressions before screaming a warcry and charging straight towards him, approaching from opposite sides. The first Orc ran towards his right, swinging his axe above his head in an attempt to catch Thrall's side, but Thrall blocked it easily with the haft of his Doomhammer and swiftly countered to bring the head of the hammer crashing down into his unguarded arm, snapping the bone inside and causing the attacker to reel away in pain. From his left the other Orc attacked, aiming his swing for Thrall's leg, but before he even got close the wolf reared upwards on his back legs, then brought both front paws down on him, pinning the Orc to the ground and piercing his skin with sharp talons as he screamed.

The other three Orcs stood facing Erenaar, who had brought her charger to a complete halt barely a metre in front of them; from there she didn't move, but instead regarded the Orcs in front of her with a vaguely amused look as they continued to hurriedly reset the mechanisms of their crossbows, continuously glancing up at her in panic as they did so. Eventually the three succeeded, a look of relief appearing their faces as they raised their weapons directly at Erenaar's chest with snarled smiles.

In response, Erenaar simply raised her left hand towards them, holding out her splayed palm in their direction – almost warning them not to even try. The warning fell on deaf ears however, as all three men focused their sights, then fired at her from point blank range. The bolts shot out at incredible speeds, each one of them flying through the short distance in the blink of an eye, but as they each closed the final few inches to the Commander's body, a blinding white fire engulfed them from tip to tail. Burning through both wood and steel in almost an instant to the point where the only thing that even touched her platemail were a few remaining cinders fizzling into nothing, leaving her completely unharmed.

The three Orcs stared in disbelief, dread slowly spreading across their faces as they realised that this was a fight they weren't going to win.

"Holy shields _are_ useful." Erenaar commented, staring at her now defenceless opponents. Without warning she suddenly spurred her charger forward, closing the gap between them in a few paces and knocking the closest Orc out cold with a single vicious hammer swing to the side of the head.

The second gritted his teeth, then roared an almighty warcry as he ran with his empty crossbow held in both hands over his shoulder, hoping to catch her off guard with a last ditch attack. It didn't work however, and Erenaar brought her hammer hurling downwards as she moved towards him, utterly smashing through the wooden crossbow and connecting with the Orc with a sickening crunch – he too fell to the ground.

At last she turned her horse towards the last Orc, who stared at her and his fallen friends for a second, before turning and completely vaulting over the battlements, preferring his chances of survival with the fall to fighting the Blood Elf. Erenaar only heard his scream as he fell, then a heavy thud beneath her - she didn't bother to check whether he'd lived or not.

"Commander!" She heard Thrall yell from behind her, "There's more coming out of the tower!"

Erenaar looked ahead to where the wall connected with the fort's main tower, as five fully armoured Orcs charged out the doorway towards them; a mix of axes and polearms raised above their heads or aimed in front of them as they ran, bellowing a cry. Erenaar adjusted her grip on her hammer slightly, then prepared to meet the Orcs head on; before she could do so however, Thrall suddenly charged past her on his mount, the distance between him and the five attackers closing at a rapid rate. As they began to near collision, Thrall thrust Doomhammer ahead of him like a spear, bellowing out as the hammer began to gleam with a faintly green light.

"Spirits of Earth, come to my aid!"

As the words left his mouth a rumbling noise began to appear from far beneath them, growing only louder and louder as both Thrall and the Iron Horde soldiers continued charging towards one another. With every step Thrall closed the noise continued to grow, until the wall itself began to visibly shake like a Earthquake, causing the five Orcs to stumble over themselves as they ran. With a leap from his wolf Thrall closed the remaining metres with ease, landing a short distance in front of the soldiers as they fell towards the ground – just as the foundations below them finally gave in. The stone cracked from the base upwards like wood splintering towards them, the section they were on crumbling downwards like a rockslide and carrying them all screaming towards the Fort's courtyard below.

The rubble crashed to the ground, the five Orcs landing with it, getting partially buried as a few remaining rocks slide off one by one to join the pile while the rumbling subsided. Erenaar casually joined Thrall's position in front of the destroyed section of wall, leaning over the edge towards the inside of the small fort to observe the groaning Orcs on top of the rock pile, doubting they'd be getting up any time soon as a few more Orcs from the courtyard ran towards them.

"And you say I show off." She joked to Thrall, climbing off the side of her horse and stretching her arms above her head when she landed, letting out a sigh.

She took a second to glance around the inside of the fort while Thrall also dismounted, the two having quite a good vantage point from their position.

"And how many times have you pulled that whole Holy Shield routine again?" Thrall responded, counting the men in the courtyard below as they stopped attending to their friends and looked up at them instead.

"It's a demoralisation tactic." Erenaar replied, "But enough of that, I'm guessing that there's a rookery at the top of that tower your friends came out of just now. We should head there, make sure the Iron Horde know we're here."

Thrall nodded to her in agreement, "I also imagine that it'll be defended, I'll take care of the men down in the courtyard while you head up there, the quicker we can get this done the better."

"If you say so Thrall, personally I'm quite enjoying this." She said with a smile - it had been far too long since she'd fought together with Thrall, she'd almost forgotten how good he was.

"As am I, Commander." He replied, returning the smile with a similar sentiment before jumping down into the yard below, using his powers to cushion his fall. Within seconds Erenaar could already hear the sounds of warcries and steel ringing below her, but she dismissed them as soon as they came, she knew Thrall could take care of himself.

Taking a few steps back she quickly judged the distance that the rockslide had left, before breaking into a sprint and vaulting over the gap with ease, throwing in a small spin in case anyone happened to be looking.

She landed with barely a sound, absorbing the impact perfectly despite her heavy plate armour weighing her down, almost impressed with herself before realising how egotistical that was. The tower lay only a short distance ahead, connecting to the wall with a wide archway that Erenaar moved silently through, keeping her guard up for any remaining forces. From the doorway she quickly glanced up and down the stone stairwell that led to the different floors; below her, the sound of fighting still rang out but from above her Erenaar could make out quieter noises coming from the top of the tower. She began to move, keeping herself against the wall as she climbed the stairs, constantly checking her surroundings for movement, not an easy thing to do while the torches that hung off the wall flickered and made her shadow dance across the stone with every step.

The sound ahead of her grew louder, to where Erenaar could make out precise noises coming from ahead; the sound of paper rustling and boots running from one side of the room to the other then back again, but as the top of the staircase came into view they suddenly stopped. Erenaar peered ahead, the staircase ended with a cracked stone wall, with a single wooden door in the middle that was pushed slightly inwards, giving her a glimpse into the next room. She moved up, not making a sound as she approached, then gently laid her left hand on the wood of the door, clutching her hammer tightly in her right. For a moment she didn't move, being able to see slightly in the room through the ajar door; a desk sat against the right wall, with ink and parchment hastily strewn across its surface, as if somebody was rushing to find something among them. There was no sign of anybody still in the room, and from where she was Erenaar could only hear the faint sounds of fighting somewhere beneath her, nothing to suggest that somebody was still in the room. But Erenaar didn't feel like taking the chance – moving her left hand off the surface of the door she reached into the small pouch that hung off her belt and pulled out a few gold coins from within.

Readying her hammer over her shoulder, she threw the door inwards with her arm, before quickly tossing the coins directly into the middle of the room, causing a loud clattering noise as they fell. She waited for a moment, expecting whoever was still hiding to run out, thinking the noise was her. But nothing came.

Slowly, Erenaar took a step into the room, quickly scanning the walls and furniture as soon as she passed the door, still not entirely convinced - but there was nobody there. Satisfied, but still slightly cautious Erenaar inspected the contents of the room more closely; two empty raven cages were stacked on top of each other in the corner of the room, a few feet from the tall window that looked out upon the courtyard below. Judging by the scattered parchment and spilled ink, the birds had been recently used to send a note. _So somebody did send a distress message._ Erenaar thought to herself, moving over to the desk and examining its contents. _But where did they–_

She spun around, turning just in time to see the rouge charging towards her only feet away, his stealthed cloak was still in the process of dispelling as ran, but his heavy footsteps still silent. He had a dagger raised in front of him, the slash aiming directly for Erenaar's shocked expression, only moments away from connecting.

With not much time to think, Erenaar raised her left arm in front of her face. The blade scrapped across the plate, missing her face by only inches as the rogue's attack was deflected to her left. She raised her hammer upwards, swinging it towards his side, but he was too quick and threw himself backwards, avoiding the attack altogether.

With a few metres now between them Erenaar turned to face him fully as he stood back up.

"You're too late Blood Elf." He snarled, an odd snicker in his voice as he spoke.

"We'll see." She replied, not taking her eye off the Orc.

The rogue was the first to move, charging at her with his dagger held in a stabbing position. Erenaar moved to meet him, swatting the first attack away with the heavy head of her hammer before thrusting her palm forwards, sending a scorching bolt of light towards his chest. The rogue rolled out of its path towards her, coming back up on his feet slightly behind her and slashing the dagger towards her lower back. But Erenaar's fist connected first, as she pivoted on her foot and brought her clenched hand crashing into his right jaw, staggering him for a few seconds before he could recover to turn towards her again. It was too late though, and Erenaar brought her hammer swinging into his arm, cracking the bone at the joint and causing him to drop his dagger as he yelled out in pain and fell to his knees.

He looked up at her, his breath coming in painful rasps.

"We've already won, the reinforcements are on their way. You'll be surrounded." He mocked, his speech coming through gritted teeth with a spiteful smile.

Erenaar leaned down towards him, matching his smile with one of her own.

"Good." She whispered, enjoying the momentary look of confusion of his face before before she connected the side of her hammer sharply into his temple, knocking him out cold as he collapsed onto the floor.

Standing up, she returned her hammer to its clasp before crossing over to the large window she'd been looking out of before and peered down into the courtyard below, easily finding Thrall just as he finished off the last of his opponents. Before she could signal to him though, her attention was caught by a bright red streak of smoke that suddenly shot upwards into the sky less than half a mile beyond the fort. The flare burst into a blinding light above the tree canopy, sending shining fragments falling down in all directions – if the flare had been sent then the Iron Horde were moving towards them, she only hoped her men could handle their side of the operation, otherwise this would all be for nothing.

"Thrall!" she called out, catching the Orc's attention beneath her and pointing towards the flare when he looked up, "They're on their way!"

Thrall glanced at the plume of smoke and nodded, before calling back her.

"I'll meet you on the wall! We may need to make a quick escape."

He was right, Erenaar had read the reports from a few of the Unbroken attacks, but nobody had any idea exactly how many men they had. An army could be marching their way, and Erenaar wasn't prepared to die over a feint plan. She left the room, deciding to leave the gold coins on the floor as compensation for the rogue; after all, it wasn't his fault he'd been outclassed. Stepping over his body she passed through the door and began to climb back down the stairs, this time making no effort to hide the sound her heavy boots made as they connected with the rough stone. She reached the wall just as Thrall did, having entered the tower from the ground level and climbed up.

"I've bolted the door below us, Commander," He said as the two passed back through the archway side by side and stepped out into the sun. "They'll have a harder time of reaching us now, provided they enter though the main gate of course."

"I assume they will," she responded, "Not everyone has a handy shaman to cheat with."

Thrall chuckled slightly as they came to a stop just before the collapsed section of wall, their mounts on the other side having now dispelled back into nothing. He turned to face her as they looked out over the courtyard, the main gate directly opposite them still barred with heavy wooden supports.

"Commander I–" He suddenly stopped, staring at her with a look close to disbelief.

"Thrall?" She prompted, looking back at the Orc with confusion.

"Commander did…" He paused for a moment, and cleared his throat. Seemingly regaining some of his composure. "Did you encounter anybody up in that tower?"

"Well yes." She responded, "A rogue, the same one from the jungle I imagine. Why?"

"It's just that… never-mind Commander." He turned back to face towards the fort, an odd look on his face, like a child trying not to laugh at something he knows he shouldn't find funny.

"Thrall? Are you smiling?" She asked, moving in front of the Orc to get his attention again.

"No Commander." He replied, staring straight ahead over the Blood Elf, his straight expression becoming more obviously forced by the second.

Erenaar on the other hand was making no effort to hide her intent, the tone of her voice clearly annoyed.

"Thrall, I will burn your goddamn beard off. What's going on?"

Before he could answer however, a second voice came from the far side of the fort; bellowing out from just behind the heavy wooden gate.

"Commander Erenaar!" The voice came, in an openly mocking tone, "Open this gate and both of you lay down your weapons. We'll even give you a cut of your ransom!"

"They're here already?" Thrall asked, both of them having immediately abandoned the previous conversation.

"The scouts must have wanted to make sure the militia were a while away before sending up the flare, in case they decided to turn around and investigate. I didn't even think about that." Erenaar responded, clearly annoyed by the oversight. "I thought we'd have more time."

The voice came again, shouting through the gate.

"Commander? Earth-Warder? Anybody home? We're coming in one way or another."

"Did you get around to thinking of a plan for this bit at least?" Thrall probed, drawing Doomhammer from its clasp in preparation.

"I _really_ need to start doing that." She admitted, leaving her weapon hanging off her belt while she scanned the surroundings, looking for some way to gain the advantage. "We still don't know how many men they have outside that gate, let's play it safe. Let them come to us and work from there, were up on an eight metre high wall so they can't kill us right away."

"That's reassuring." He commented, finishing as the voice called out once again.

"Fine then. Bring it down boys!"

There was silence for a few seconds, but then the gate suddenly shook forwards with a groan, forced inwards from behind. It stayed intact, but another thump came shortly after, putting the wood under more stress. It was only a matter of time until it gave in.

"Thrall, that trick we used to get in here, can you do it in reverse?" Erenaar asked, walking towards the outer edge of the wall and peering over.

"Make the Earth catch us as we fall? I don't see why not, can't say it'll be smooth though." He replied, watching the gate as it continued to buckle with each shove. "They must have something strong on the other side of that door."

"So do we." Erenaar responded, still leaning over the edge of the battlements, noting the small trail of blood leading from it into the jungle, probably from the Orc who had jumped earlier. "It's survivable at least. We may need it as an exit strategy."

Standing up, she re-joined him on the other side of the wall. The two of them being able to only wait as the door grew weaker, splinters beginning to appear on the horizontal beam keeping it together. It was painful for Erenaar to watch, simply standing there, being unable to do anything to stop the potential army from charging in towards them, but having no way to fight them either - she'd rather just get to the confrontation.

"So what exactly was it you were laughing at?" She suddenly questioned, breaking the momentary silence between her and Thrall. "I mean just in case we die, it'd really bother me not knowing."

"Would it?" He replied, "I mean you'd be dead, how annoyed could you be?"

The gate lurched forward again, the men behind it yelling out with each shove whatever beasts they were using as battering rams gave.

"Have you ever met Lady Windrunner?" Erenaar countered, "She seems pretty constantly annoyed for a dead person."

"I imagine you'd get along well."

"Watch it, you." She responded, not entirely joking.

A noise suddenly interrupted them, as the beam barring the gate finally gave in and splintered practically in two, only holding together by a thread.

"Here we go." Erenaar said, more as a means to prepare herself than anything else.

The militia gave one final shove, and the beam snapped in two; the heavy doors of the gate swinging apart as two riders charged through on a pair of massive rocktusk boars. They ran into the middle of the courtyard, followed close behind by at least three dozen armed brown Orcs, all clad in pieces of black mail armour with the same insignia painted on each of their tabards - a cracked skull wearing a dull, white crown. The same sigil the Horde had been finding all over northern Draenor in connection to the Unbroken Militia's activities.

They quickly stormed into the yard, finding Erenaar and Thrall and rapidly forming a rough formation in front of the wall, their weapons at the ready. From there, neither of the two groups moved. The cluster of Orcs below stared up at Erenaar and Thrall with bloodthirsty snarls and impatient aggression, while the pair above looked down with careful deliberation, analysing the situation for any advantages. They all however seemed to be waiting for the other to make the first move; some remark or taunt or attack to break the tension of the two enemies now standing only metres away from each other. Nothing happened though, until a few of the militia Orcs from the middle of the disorganised formation suddenly shuffled to one side, the ones in front of them quickly following suit as if making way for somebody walking forward.

From their position, neither Erenaar or Thrall could make out the figure approaching them through the crowd, but both could take a reasonable guess; and as the figure finally made his way through the front line of Orcs, it looked like their suspicions were correct. He was a scrawnier Orc than the others, wearing a worn leather jerkin with the same crowned skull insignia pressed onto its centre. His long black hair came down on either side of his face, but was also tied up at the top into a tight ponytail that reached down towards the back of his neck.

He walked forwards and stood between the two mounted riders, looking up specifically at Erenaar with a confident smile.

"Commander Erenaar I presume?" He asked, close enough to her now to be able to talk at normal volume, the slight mocking still evident in his tone.

"That I am." She replied, her tone as smooth and calm as ever, already showing the Orc that she wouldn't be rising to the bait. "You share a rather striking resemblance to your wanted posters you know. They really did capture your image, Lukk."

"Captain Lukk, actually." He responded, in a surprisingly civil tone for once. "The posters always seem to miss that bit out."

Before Erenaar could respond, Lukk's attention was suddenly caught in front of him, to where the five Iron Horde Orcs lay on top of the pile of destroyed rock that used to be a part of the wall. One of the Orcs seemed to have regained consciousness and was groaning in an attempt to stand back up on what was probably a broken leg. Lukk walked towards him, heaving the soldier up by his arm and supporting him on the side of his good leg as he struggled to stand.

"You- you part of the reinforcements?" He asked, leaning on Lukk's shoulder for balance as he finally stood, trying to catch his breath. "I've got no idea where the two attackers went."

"I sure am." Lukk replied, sliding one of his daggers out of its sheath and holding it in his spare hand. "And I don't think you need to worry about those two anymore."

"Why's that?" The Orc asked, a confused look on his pained face.

"Well," Lukk started, raising the dagger upwards. "Because of this."

His grip on the Orc suddenly tightened, and he thrust the dagger upwards into his exposed throat, kicking him in the injured leg in case he tried to use his last few seconds to try and fight. Blood gurgled out of the Orc's mouth as he desperately tried to breathe or scream through his pierced windpipe, but he quickly ran out of strength, his entire body going limp in a matter of moments; falling to the ground and Lukk's dagger slid out of him. He stepped back, cleaning the crimson blood off his dagger with a rough rag that he took from his belt, returning to his original position.

"Sorry about that." He continued towards Erenaar, as casually as if he'd had to step out to take a call or answer the door.

Erenaar only looked back at him, she couldn't claim to be shocked by the act, she'd seen Lukk's type before. But she couldn't say she was expecting it either.

"He was one of your own." Thrall retorted, with a clear anger in his voice.

From below, Lukk laughed slightly at the remark, returning his now clean blade to its sheath.

"Our relationship with the Iron Horde is strictly monetary, I assure you. And besides, it'd be in both our interests if they stayed in the dark in this matter."

"In the dark?" Erenaar responded, "I'm pretty sure they're already aware of the situation."

Again, Lukk only laughed, as if in on some joke that Erenaar and Thrall had been left out of; even a few of his men stood behind him had begun to smile, something that unsettled Erenaar greatly.

"Not _this_ , Commander. Although I have to say its impressive work, taking down a fort with only the two of you. But it's a bit of a desperate move don't you think?"

"Oh trust me Lukk, we haven't even started to–"

Erenaar was cut off. A loud rumbling noise had suddenly erupted from beyond the fort walls, in the direction the militia had come from. She and Thrall looked up towards the noise - and their faces fell. From beyond the wall, a small explosion was rising rapidly upwards from the jungle, sending orange fire burning up into the sky, originating from the exact same place the flare had been sent up from only minutes ago. The noise continued, still audible even from their distance as the sound of the explosion spread throughout the jungle.

Erenaar's eyes snapped back towards Lukk, her expression one of fury – but even as she opened her mouth, she realised there was nothing she needed to say. The twisted smile on Lukk's face explained everything to her.

Erenaar turned around.

And Erenaar ran.

* * *

 **So yeah, that happened.**

 **If you're enjoying so far then feel free to leave a review or send me a PM, letting me know. Even if you're not finding it entertaining, taking the time to let me know why would mean a lot to me.**

 **Still haven't figured out why FanFiction won't let me upload me usual scene markers, or have more than one blank line, so for now I have to stick with the ugly (III) markers.**

 **I'm keeping the rating at a T for now, I doubt I'm going to need to move it up to an M at any point but who knows? Me, probably.**

 **Since I'm uploading Chapters One and Two at the same time I haven't received any more than my one friends feedback over this writing yet, in future footers I might answer some questions if readers feel like asking them.**

 **Anyway see you for the next instalment:**

 _ **Chapter Three - Eyebrows**_

 _ **Coming Soon TM**_

 **DISCLAIMER:**

 **World of Warcraft, its universe and its content are the property of Blizzard Entertainment and I claim none of them as my creations, with the exception of the Original Characters and specific plot of this story; which has been created as a public, non-profitable fan work.**


	3. Chapter 3 - Eyebrows

**Hello again.**

 **So it's been a while since Chapter 2; apologies out to all my 19 followers. Unfortunately a mix of business in real life and overwhelming teenage laziness caused me to take an extended break from writing for a while there, but I'm back to my usual break-neck pace of a chapter a day.**

 **It's a shame sarcasm doesn't translate into text very well.**

 **Anyway;**

 **What was that explosion at the fort? Will Erenaar and Thrall survive the rest of their mission to make it home? Of course they will, they're the main characters. And who was that Goblin that I randomly wrote into the Ty'Jin scene? The answers to all these questions in Chapter 3!**

 **Plus there's a Draenei.**

* * *

Alaessia was an intelligent woman; at least she liked to think so. Although to be fair, it was an opinion that most who knew her well tended to share; she hadn't risen to the position she was in on strength alone after all, although it certainly did help. Unfortunately though, those who knew her well also seemed to agree on another opinion; as intelligent as Alaessia was, she nearly always conveyed the opposite idea.

In truth, it had been something that the young Draenei had been aware of since she was a child, and it had served as a constant source of annoyance to her ever since, mainly because she rarely seemed to notice when she was giving off the wrong impression. Of course to her friends, it was just an amusing characteristic that they had grown to enjoy; they knew that she was a brilliant tactician, strategist and problem solver overall, but for whatever reason, her demeanour and manner of talking just gave off the opposite appearance, and often conveyed her as… somewhat of an idiot.

But Alaessia knew she intelligent; her senses were keen, her knowledge was in-depth and she was a good fighter to boot, and usually, that was enough for her. That being said, there was one thing that she simply had to admit to herself at this moment.

 _I have no idea what's going on._ She thought to herself, once again looking around the room she had been sat in for the last two hours. She had went to sleep last night the same as any other, but after what was a surprisingly refreshing rest had woken up in here, in what could only be described as a cell. The walls were hard stone, although metal beams ran towards the ceiling intermittently along them. The metal itself was strange; it was a dark, glossy substance that Alaessia did not recognise, and it seemed to almost pull in the surrounding light, which was coming from two torch sconces on either wall. As a hunter, Alaessia herself was not fluent in the arts of magic, but what little arcane energy she could feel around her seemed to be pulled in towards the beams, if she had to guess, the metal served as a suppresser to casting magic within the cell.

The floor and ceiling were made of a coarse stone, and the only exit from the room was by the windowless metal door that had remained locked since her arrival, not that she hadn't tried every manner of opening it.

When she first came to, there had been a ceramic jug filled with around a litre of water sitting in the corner of the room, along with a matching plate that held two small loaves of crusty bread. To begin with, Alaessia had ignored the provisions, but after a while, she came to reason that if her captors wanted her dead, they would have killed her while they dragged her in here in her sleep. As such, after thoroughly inspecting the food and water for poison just in case, she had begun to steadily peck at the provisions over the last hour, while also continuing to inspect the cell, searching for any small detail that might give her a clue as to where she was, or how to get out.

Her investigation had revealed nothing though even with Alaessia's keen sight, and now sat cross legged in the centre of the room, the Draenei accepted that her only apparent course of action was to wait. Of course she had been abducted in her sleep, and so had no equipment on her whatsoever, not that her captors would have let her keep any she happened to have. Unfortunately, the silk nightclothes she was wearing where the only thing she had in the cell, and they served little use in her current situation other than slight modesty should company arrive.

With no other options, Alaessia closed her eyes and took a deep breath out, relaxing her mind and entering a light state of meditation, preparing her body should she have to fight. As a hunter, she knew the importance of having a focused mind should danger present itself, that and she was bored of pacing.

Not five minutes had passed however, when the unexpected suddenly broke Alaessia's concentration, snapping her back into reality. At the far wall of the cell, a swirling blue vortex of arcane energy suddenly spiralled into existence around 5 feet above the floor, a shimmering image of battlements and red banners in its centre. Alaessia stood, recognising the conjuration as an arcane portal. For a brief moment, she considered jumping through it, but the thought was dispelled when a figure came hurtling through from the other side, falling at an alarming angle. Before Alaessia even had time to react, the figure had passed through completely, her already poor angle of entry causing her to fall forwards out of the portal with panic, only barely bracing herself before hitting the stone floor, her head making contact with a sharp thud.

Alaessia stood there, caught in utter surprise by the events that had just transpired in the last few seconds. Remembering the portal however, she quickly snapped herself out of the momentary stupor and began rushing towards it, preparing to jump, only to see the arcane energies already begin to disperse and subdue, being almost completely gone by the time she reached the wall. In only a few seconds, the portal had disappeared completely, and she came to a halt, trapped in the room once again.

After allowing herself a moment of annoyance, the Draenei turned, and knelt down besides the figure, who was still lying on the floor. Briefly inspecting her wounds, it was obvious that the blow to her head had knocked her unconscious, but she was otherwise unharmed by the fall, other than a bad bruise that was already starting to form on her forehead.

It was only when she got a proper look at her face however that Alaessia recognised the figure, though it had been some time since they had last met.

"Hello, Erenaar." She said, a small smile forming on her lips.

 **==Earlier==**

Erenaar sat at the edge of her bed, staring at the dark wooden floor below her. Outside, the early morning sun cast its cold glow through the windows, illuminating the room with a soft light. A night had passed since she'd arrived back at the Garrison with Thrall, although the events of the Fort where still fresh in her mind; out of the hundred or so people that had left for the expedition, only they had returned so far.

"Commander." A voice came from outside the door, in a distinguishing low, gravely tone of an Undead. "The Warchief is ready for you now, he's waiting by the central fire pit."

Erenaar didn't respond. _The Horde moves fast when it needs to,_ she thought to herself. The Undead outside was part of the Forsaken reinforcements that had been brought through from Azeroth in the last few hours, and Erenaar couldn't say that she was happy about it. She knew that word of her mission's failure would travel fast, but having a battalion full of Undead suddenly fill her garrison made her somewhat uneasy. The Forsaken made poor soldiers in her opinion, after all, the Undead could only ever have one true leader, and Erenaar suspected she might be meeting her soon; where the Undead were, their dark Lady was never far behind. But Erenaar supposed she could bare it, after all, the troops had been brought in from the Undercity on the Warchief's personal request; and with the sheer number of men that had yet to return from her mission, she knew that she couldn't turn away their service. Not that she had much of a choice in the matter.

The voice came again from behind the door, "Commander?"

Erenaar lifted her head, and sighed for what was definitely not the first time that day.

"Yes. I'll be with him shortly." She replied curtly, trying to keep resignation out of her voice.

She waited a moment, listening as the messenger shuffled away through the snow outside. Erenaar had had enough of snow. Perhaps the only positive outcome of this whole ordeal was that she may finally get a break from it, although looking on the bright side was something she'd never really had the desire to do.

But Erenaar stood, not wanting to dwell on her thoughts for too long; she imagined she'd have plenty of time to do that soon. Before leaving though, she crossed through into the small bathroom that adjoined her quarters, slipping off her gauntlets and running her hands under the tap above her sink. The water was cold, far colder than she would have liked, but everything about Frostwall seemed to be frigid and Erenaar had far grown used to it. Cupping the water in her hands, she brought it upwards and splashed it onto her face, rubbing her skin with her hands and feeling the dirt and sweat from the previous day start to rinse away.

She turned off the tap and raised her head upwards. She had asked to have a mirror installed there a few weeks back, but Gazlowe, the Horde's architect, had been too busy building barracks at the time to order her one. As such, Erenaar simply stared at the bare wooden planks of her wall for a few seconds, before picking up a towel and drying off her face. Seriously, how much extra effort is it to fetch a mirror?

Erenaar Sighed.

"Time to go." She said aloud to herself, tossing the towel into the empty sink and crossing back across her quarters towards the door.

She pushed it open, and the cold embraced her again, particularly towards her fingers Erenaar noticed, realising that she'd forgotten to put her gauntlets back on. She sighed once more, knowing that she really shouldn't keep Vol'Jin waiting, but also not wanting to have cold fingers. After a moment of thought however, she settled on the former as the lesser of two evils and closed the door behind her, leaving her gauntlets back in the bathroom somewhere, figuring she could manage one more annoyance today.

She walked forward, her boots crunching the soft morning snow beneath her as she moved down the footpath towards the middle of the garrison, where a large fire pit stood burning against the cold, the rising smoke just visible to her as she walked. There were still a few Orcs wondering around the garrison, carrying out their various orders on their own or in pairs. But they were vastly outnumbered by the company number of Undead that were now guarding the doorways and patrolling the walls, their purple tabards showing the proud symbol of the Undercity for all to see. The fact that they didn't wear the standard Horde tabard annoyed Erenaar somewhat, but she also knew that there was no point in pretending that the Undead were accepted as equals in the Horde. On that Erenaar could at least sympathise a small amount, she'd some degree of distrust during her career due to her race, although in her case, most of it was usually justified.

As she descended the small hill that led from her quarters, Erenaar spotted Vol'Jin across the garrison; he was standing by the firepit, staring into its flames with his hands held behind his back, seemingly in thought. She continued to walk towards him, doing her best to keep the early morning sun out of her eyes, not at easy feat considering how well the snow seemed to reflect its radiance back towards her. As she walked, several of the Undead saluted her from their respective posts, but Erenaar chose not to return the gestures, and before long was standing only a short distance away from the Warchief himself, whose back was still towards her. Erenaar approached him, ignoring the two Shadow Hunters that stood a few metres behind him as his personal guard, they somewhat reminded her of Ty'Jin, who was amongst the many who had yet to return from the mission. Erenaar would be lying if she said she wasn't feeling guilty about it. She might never know how many men and women she sent to their graves yesterday, and it was looking like it might all have been for nothing.

She forced the thought out of her head though, and came to a stop a few metres behind Vol'Jin.

"Warchief." She announced, bowing her head downward in respect.

Vol'Jin turned around, and nodded back towards her.

"Commander. It be good t'see you again. Although I wish it be under better circumstances."

"As do I Warchief," She responded, her tone even, "Although those in positions like ours are rarely so fortunate."

Vol'Jin let out a short grunt of amusement, before turning back towards the fire, motioning for Erenaar to join him. She did so, stretching her hands out towards the fire as she arrived by his side, enjoying the feeling of warmth returning to her fingers.

"I take ya've been informed about the Undead that'll be replacing ya lost men?" He queried, turning his head slightly in her direction, but not quite making eye contact.

"Indeed." Erenaar replied, a look scepticism forming on her expression, "Straight from the Undercity I believe, I was unaware Lady Windrunner had the men to spare."

"Truth is she doesn't, these be her own guard, and it be generous of her to lend them to the Horde's army for the time being." Vol'Jin replied, with every bit of sincerity meant in the remark; Lady Sylvanas wasn't exactly known for her acts of kindness.

"Generous indeed." Erenaar remarked, "It almost makes one wonder what she would stand to benefit from it."

Vol'Jin sighed, he knew full well what Erenaar was getting at, and he suspected that she'd already figured out the answer. After a moment, he responded to the question, turning to face Erenaar fully, and addressing her with a formal tone, almost as if handing out a decree.

"In return for her subsidisation, Lady Windrunner has been given temporary Command of da Horde's expeditionary forces. As of now, she be in Command of da ongoing Draenor campaign in your absence, until the inquiries into ya recent performance be completed." He paused for a moment, looking her directly in the eye, "She'll be arrivin' within the hour, so I be expecting your request for leave before the end of the day Commander."

Erenaar only nodded, acknowledging the statement without much to say. She'd been fully expecting a temporary leave of absence to be the outcome of her mission's failure, and passing on Command to Lady Windrunner seemed natural after her 'donation', though it was an odd turn of events. Sylvanas wasn't exactly the most trusted of individuals among the Horde after all, and Erenaar had to say that she somewhat agreed with that sentiment. If it wasn't for the men she'd given, Erenaar doubted she would have been offer the position at all, although why exactly Sylvanas wanted the position was a bigger question in Erenaar's mind. She'd usually kept herself out of the Horde's problems as much as possible, and overseeing guerrilla warfare from a frozen plateau wasn't exactly glamourous.

After mulling it over, she gave Vol'Jin her reply. Erenaar wasn't scornful over the situation, or at least if she didn't carry it across in her voice, as she turned around to face the Warchief fully.

"I understand," she started, "and exactly how much leave will I be applying for, Warchief?"

"Eight weeks minimum, though ya may take more if ya wish. It be fully paid leave, not that I imagine that be making much of a difference to ya. But I be preferring that this be a voluntary decision, Commander, it'd be looking better for the both of us if I didn't have ta officially impose this on ya."

Again Erenaar didn't reply immediately, but instead turned her head towards the side for a moment, looking out across the Garrison with a small frown, as if trying to decide on her next words carefully.

"Warchief," She began, turning back to meet Vol'Jin's gaze, "You know I'm more than capable of this position."

Vol'Jin didn't react at the sudden remark, and kept his tone even and honest as he replied.

"Aye Erenaar, I know that. But you know as well as I dat your performance these last few months hasn't been reflectin' ya capabilities. If it be up ta me, I'd tell ya to work on it and leave you to what you do best, but my hands be tied on dis. Da Council back in Orgrimmar think ya should take some time off, and with this Unbroken incident going south, I can't argue on ya behalf anymore."

Erenaar lowered her head a fraction, knowing that there wasn't any way she was going to be able to fight this.

"I'm sorry, Erenaar." Vol'Jin finished.

Erenaar nodded, and after a moment rose her head back up towards him, a familiar smile on her face.

"You have nothing to apologise for Warchief. If you'll excuse me, I feel the sudden urge to go apply for some leave of my own free volition. It's been good seeing you again."

"You too, Erenaar." Vol'Jin concluded, seemingly glad that their encounter hadn't ended in bitterness. "I know this isn't what you want, but try ta make ya time off worth it, relax and forget about dis for a while." A small smile formed on the Troll's face, as he made one final comment to the Blood Elf.

"And make sure ya visit a barbers when ya get back to Azeroth, have him take care of ya… _battle wounds_."

Erenaar frowned at the words, confused by what the Warchief meant. _Battle wounds? Barbers?_ She ran her fingers over her hair to the tip of her ponytail, thinking that she may have caught some blood from the battle that she hadn't noticed, but she didn't feel anything out of place.

"A barbers, Warchief?" She asked, baffled by the comment.

"Ah," started Vol'Jin, pausing for a moment as he continued to look at Erenaar, almost inspecting her, "I presumed you were aware… Thrall didn't mention anything to ya?"

"Thrall?" Erenaar replied, none the wiser as to what the Warchief was talking about, "We haven't talked much since the Fort, is something the matter?"

"It… It be nothin' of importance Commander, but I be recommending that ya find a mirror before ya cross over back to Azeroth."

Sensing that Vol'Jin wasn't going to elaborate on the matter, and suddenly very aware that there may be something wrong with her appearance, Erenaar quickly felt the desire to leave the conversation, and found herself agreeing with the Warchief rather than pressing the matter with him.

"I will certainly do that, Vol'Jin, farewell." She concluded, nodding a small goodbye to the Warchief before turning back the way she'd came. Of course there wasn't a mirror in her quarters, but she figured she'd find something.

 _I wonder what exactly he was on about?_ She thought to herself as she traversed the path back up towards the quieter area of the Garrison. _If there was something noticeably wrong I would have thought Thrall would mention it…_

A horrible realisation suddenly dawned on her, causing look of almost disgust and anger to appear on her face. _Is that what he was laughing at, back at the fort? Why wouldn't he just tell me? I swear by the light when I find out what this is about…_

Almost back at her quarters, Erenaar's annoyance suddenly started to give way to self-consciousness, while every guard kept saluting her as she walked past, she started to feel like a sore thumb. As if everyone must have been noticing her 'battle wounds'.

Much to her relief though, the concern was abruptly cut short, as one of the Undead stationed on a nearby watchtower called out to her with sudden urgency.

"Commander! There's a mounted rider, approaching from the main gate, should I sound the alarm?"

Erenaar turned towards the tower, and angled her head upwards towards the Undead, but didn't respond immediately. It was unlikely that a single rider would be trying to attack their garrison, and even if they were, Erenaar doubted they'd need the whole place at battle stations. More likely was that it was a survivor from yesterday's mission, and Erenaar was eager to piece together exactly what had happened from the scouts side.

"Keep an eye on him, but keep the gates shut until you can identify who they are. I'll wait on this side of the wall."

The Undead nodded, and turned his sights back out of the Garrison, to where the rider was presumably riding in from. She didn't have her hammer wth her, but Erenaar knew she could probably take whoever the rider was without it, in the case that they did come here to fight.

She moved to the gate, motioning to two nearby sentries to join her, just in case. Stood behind the heavy wooden doors, the three then waited for the watchman to identify the rider as either friend of foe. After a painful minute of tense waiting, his reply eventually came.

"It's a Troll, Commander, almost at the gate. Armed to the teeth, carrying something bundled up in cloth, can't say I recognise him."

An annoyed call came from the other side the gate. "I'm gonna try ma hardest not ta take offence to dat, Undead."

Erenaar smiled, she never thought she'd be glad to hear _that_ voice again.

"Let him in." She called upwards, signalling for the Undead to trigger the gate's opening mechanism. "Find the Warchief," she added to one of the sentries beside her, "Let him know Ty'Jin has returned."

 **III**

"So you be the only survivor?" Vol'Jin questioned, waiting for Ty'Jin to finish drinking the water he had just been brought.

"Aye, Warchief, if none others have come back." He replied, wiping the liquid from his mouth. "It was a damn massacre out there."

Vol'Jin sighed, though he was genuinely happy for his clansman's return, the news he brought was grim indeed. After being given some time to recover, Ty'Jin started recounting to Thrall, Erenaar and the Warchief his perspective of what had happened from one of the small barracks at the far end of the garrison. Apparently, the whole mission had been a set-up, not that this was surprising. What was truly concerning was that not only had the fort been left purposely weak for the attack as Erenaar speculated, but that the 'hidden base' their scouts had tried to infiltrate had been a complete ploy, filled with explosives and set to blow as soon as the majority of their forces were in. Very few had survived the initial explosion.

"The loss of our men be tragic indeed, but the fact that dey died for nothing is devastating." Vol'Jin agreed, the mood turning somber. "Not only dat, but if they knew this much about our moves to plan a counter…"

He didn't have to finish; Ty'Jin, Thrall and Erenaar all knew what he was implying. There was a spy in their ranks.

"This stays between us, understand?" He added after a moment of pensive thought, to which all three nodded. They all knew that this was a delicate situation to deal with.

"What happened to the rest?" Erenaar probed, "You couldn't have all been caught in the explosion."

At this Ty'Jin sighed, an expression somewhere between pained and sorrowful appearing on his face.

"Aye, my band were the last to head in, most of us survived da blast… but there was an ambush soon after. Dose Unbroken bastards surrounded us before we could react." As he spoke, anger started to build steadily in his voice, "I gave the order to stand and fight, and damn near everybody died."

"Lok'tar ogar, Ty'Jin, you did you men proud." Thrall commented, knowing all too well the guilt of losing men under your command.

"Aye, _victory or death_. Might 'ave suited the soldiers I left ta die, but I claimed no victory, and didn't even have the decency to bleed with 'em."

The Troll slumped his shoulders, looking shameful after admitting his actions; it answered why he was the only man yet to return. Erenaar however was seemingly having none of it, her expression clearly showing anger and annoyance towards his words.

"That's enough." She stated, her tone harsh enough to get Ty'Jin's immediate attention. "Those men were dead the second that bomb went off, it was I who sent them to their end, and having you die for no reason along with them would have served me nothing. They are dead, we are alive. We don't get to feel sorry for ourselves."

For a second Ty'Jin seemed shocked by the words, but after a moment, he simply closed his eyes and nodded briefly at the Blood Elf, seemingly taking some small solace from the words. Whether that had been they're intention was up for debate, but standing next to her, Vol'Jin momentarily regarded Erenaar with a look of respect. Whether she knew it or not, her words had served to both simultaneously berate Ty'Jin for his actions and support him for the decision; both of which Vol'Jin knew he deserved.

"You be right, Erenaar." The shadow Hunter admitted, sounding apologetic on behalf of his words. A moments more silence hung between them, before Ty'Jin spoke again. "If you'll excuse me then Warchief, I think it be best if I get some sleep before we travel back to Azeroth."

Vol'Jin nodded, having no more words that needed to be said, and Ty'Jin began towards the other end of the room, his eyes cast slightly lower than usual. As he was leaving however, Erenaar's attention was drawn to the small bundle of cloth that lay on one of the small beds in the corner of the room, around the size of a small child. Ty'Jin had been carrying it when he arrived back at the garrison, but she'd been too busy at the time to ask him about it.

Curious, she crossed over to the bed, and lightly pulled off the top layer of cloth. A small look of surprise appeared on her face, before falling into one of sorrow.

"She was with me when de ambush happened." Ty'Jin said, turning in Erenaar's direction from the other side of the room, "We both made it out but… she was injured in da fray. Bled out before we even left Gorgrond."

Erenaar turned around to face him, but the Troll had already turned his back to her again, stepping out of the door with only a last passing comment.

"Give her a good burial."

With that he left the barracks completely, the sounds of the wind and chatter outside briefly audible before the door swung shut behind him, muting them one again and leaving the room in relative silence.

Without a word, Thrall and Vol'Jin crossed the room to join her, and all three regarded the small goblin laying before them, still partially wrapped by the cloth. Her expression was peaceful, but the dark crimson stain that covered her roughly bandaged side betrayed the image, making the thought that she was anything but dead impossible. Her leather armour where not bloody was either torn or singed by the battle, and much of her knotted white hair was flaked in dried blood – a few leaves were caught in her roots.

" _Shoru jang vazo, kaharu."_ Vol'Jin muttered, closing his eyes for a moment out of respect. Although Erenaar knew very little Zandali, she had heard the phrase often enough on the battlefield to recognise it as a mark of passage to those recently departed.

Having seen enough of death in the past few days however, Erenaar silently thanked the Goblin for her sacrifice, before covering her again with the cloth.

"What was her name?" Thrall asked, his voice slightly quieter than usual, his eyes still lingering on the covered corpse.

For a moment Erenaar didn't answer, but after a few seconds she slowly looked up at Thrall, her voice was open and honest, with a genuine sadness underneath.

"I have no idea."

 **III**

Sat at the small desk in her quarters, Erenaar blew lightly on the parchment, drying the ink that she had just finished writing onto it. She lightly dropped the quill back into its holder, then held the paper aloft to re-read it:

 _Following the recent reviews into my performance as Commander of the Horde's expeditionary forces, I am formally requesting twelve weeks granted leave of absence from my position at Frostwall Garrison so that I may act upon the recommendations made by Warchief Vol'Jin regarding my military conduct._

 _I believe such actions would be for the overall benefit of the Horde, and have full confidence in Lady Sylvanas Windrunner to lead in my place._

 _Erenaar Silversword of the Ashen Verdict_

Content with its message, she folded the parchment in three and sealed it with a wax press, embedding the Horde's logo onto its front. For a while she had considered leaving out the line about her 'confidence in Lady Windrunner's abilities', but after a while she had remembered that the entire sentiment of the letter had been disingenuous, so figured a show of 'no hard feelings' wouldn't be amiss.

That being said, Erenaar supposed that it was a sincerity she would have to adopt for a while longer, she would be leaving Draenor in a few hours; the process for her leave having been concluded before she had even sent the letter. But before she left, Vol'Jin had requested that she talk to Lady Sylvanas, who had arrived about an hour ago with surprisingly little ceremony.

Erenaar couldn't say she was particularly feeling either way about the meeting, she had spoken with the Dark Lady a few times during her career and while her experiences with her hadn't always been the best, she couldn't claim to have any abhorrent hatred for her. Besides, as a warrior and a leader, Erenaar had to admit to a certain amount of admiration towards her, after all; Sylvanas was the woman who gave her life in defence of Quel'Thalas, a land that they both once shared as a home. But Erenaar suspected that whatever allegiances the Dark Lady used to have for their people died with her, replaced with a loyalty to a people of her own. If she was honest, Erenaar had never forgiven her for that – whether knowingly or not, Sylvanas had chosen the forsaken over the Blood Elves that day.

Erenaar sighed, she'd had enough of speaking to people she didn't want to. If it wasn't for the fact that she was staying with her parents for the next few weeks, she might have thanked Vol'Jin for giving her a break from it.

Before the thought of spending time with her family could sink in however, she abandoned the train of thought and stood from her desk, collecting the letter from the table and this time remembering to slip her gauntlets back on. She went to leave her quarters, but before she could, she found herself glancing around the room that she had spent the last few months living in. It was quaint; only the bare essentials with some necessary luxuries dotted around the place, she supposed she should get somebody to clear it out, it wasn't as if she'd be sleeping in it for a while.

Without another thought, she exited the room and headed across the garrison, to the war-room where Lady Sylvanas awaited.

The war-room didn't have a door as such, in essence it was just a large circular room that sat at the highest point of the garrison, a place for the leaders of the Horde to gather and discuss business best not heard in public, especially now that their intelligence was possibly compromised. The disadvantage of the room not having a door was that it often got quite cold being exposed to the elements, the advantage was that now that there was a different Commander already inside, Erenaar didn't have to stoop to knock before entering her own building.

As confident as ever, although perhaps appearing more so for their first formal introduction, Erenaar strode into the room, to where the Dark Lady stood, speaking with Thrall by the map table at the other side. It appeared as though they were just finishing their conversation.

"I believe that about sums up the situation, my Lady. The men have also been informed of your Command, but you may wish to address them yourself." Thrall said to Sylvanas, turning towards Erenaar as she approached. "Ah, Commander, I was wondering when you'd arrive, I was just briefing Lady Sylvanas on our operations."

Erenaar came to a stop next the two, bowing her head slightly towards Lady Sylvanas, who had yet to react to her arrival.

"Thank you, Thrall." She responded, using a much more formal tone than she normally would when talking to him alone. She then turned slightly to face Lady Sylvanas, who was observing Erenaar with a somewhat disinterested expression. She stood at around the same height as Erenaar, but her pale blue skin and glowing red eyes separated the two from any similarity. Where Erenaar's hair fell like silk over her shoulders, Sylvanas' held the appearance of dense grey ash caught in the air around her, emanating from somewhere in the crimson hood that was pulled over her head. Erenaar almost felt imposed by her presence, but she found the will to speak all the same.

"My Lady." She started, making sure to address her with respect, "I trust you've settled in well?"

"Indeed, Commander. You've run a fine operation here, my men will not falter this reputation." She stated in return, her tone stern, but not disrespectful.

Erenaar nodded, knowing the words to be genuine.

"You have my personal thanks for assigning some of your own to help our cause here, my Lady. I know we're all spread thin as it is."

Before Sylvanas could respond, an Orc approached the three, and spoke quickly into Thrall's ear. Thrall nodded back at the Orc, before addressing the two again.

"It appear's Vol'Jin seeks my presence; I'll leave you to it Commander, my Lady" He said, nodding to each in turn before turning to leave the room behind the messenger. Erenaar nodded and gave him a quick smile is response, while Sylvanas merely watched him walk away without another word.

Once he was a good distance away, Sylvanas addressed Erenaar again, her voice coming clear, but with a natural tone of authority, one Erenaar tried to ignore.

"There's a question I wish to know the answer to, Commander." She stated, implying that Erenaar had little choice in the matter. "Do you believe that the Warchief was just in ordering your temporary dismissal?"

Erenaar was somewhat taken aback, although she hid it well on the outside, keeping her composure in place. It was a question she had asked herself several times since this morning, but she had still not reached an answer, at least not one she would be willing to share.

"I… realise that my performance recently has been below what I am capable of." She began, speaking slowly and choosing each word carefully, not being able to shake the feeling that the Dark Lady was somehow testing her. "Yet I do wish that the Warchief had let me deal with that issue by my own means, not by forcing me on a vacation."

She immediately began to regret her choice of words; they'd came out with a clear annoyance, if this was some sort of test by Sylvanas, Erenaar had just lost. Sylvanas raised her eyebrow slightly at the words, but seemed if anything only interested at their meaning – if the positions were reversed, Erenaar imagined she would have felt smug over getting her to slip up.

"I see." Sylvanas simply commented, seeming content to let the matter lie. "I've been briefed on the current situation here. When you leave, I can assume command."

At this, Sylvanas turned her head away from Erenaar, looking downwards to observe the various maps spread around the table in front of her, apparently dismissing the Commander now that their formal introduction had taken place.

For a moment, Erenaar thought about challenging the affront, but soon gave up on the idea; although Lady Sylvanas was now occupying her military position, the two were far from equals in terms of the position within the Horde. It would be best not to assert herself to her. With that in mind, Erenaar decided to go along with the notion, and began to walk away in silence. After only a few steps however, she recalled that she had something else to mention, and turned on her heel to face Sylvanas again.

"I've ordered some men to move my belongings into storage, the Commander's quarters should be ready for you by nightfall." She said, assuming Sylvanas would appreciate the gesture; it wasn't as if she'd have much use for them over the next few weeks.

"That will not be necessary, Commander." Sylvanas responded, sounding neither grateful nor ungrateful, keeping her focus down towards the table. "I have little need for sleep, and those quarters are yours, you may keep them for your return."

Erenaar didn't quite know whether to feel annoyed or appreciative towards the Dark Lady, so settled on a quick "Very well." before turning again to leave the room. She was at the door when Sylvanas called out to her.

"There is a Forsaken in my troop by the name of Avice, the woman was a skilled beautician in life, and although she has taken the path of a warrior now, many of her former skills remain. You may wish to seek her out to address your… imbalance, before your return to Silvermoon."

Erenaar stood at the doorway, looking back at Sylvanas, a look of pure puzzlement of her face. It took her a few moments to remember Vol'Jin's similar words earlier in the morning, and Thrall's odd behaviour at the fort. She realised that she hadn't been able to take the time to check what they were on about, as much as she disliked having to ask, perhaps Sylvanas could finally answer the question.

"An imbalance, Lady Sylvanas?"

In response to the question, Sylvanas raised her head up to look at Erenaar properly, her cold golden eyes seeming to innately look right through her. For once Erenaar understood why those under her often felt uncomfortable when she looked at them with scorn.

"I assumed you had been told," she continued "Your left eyebrow is several inches shorter than the other."

For a moment, the puzzled look on Erenaar's face only grew, her body taking a moment to process the information, but after a few seconds, it was replaced with one of shock as the words slowly sunk in. Instinctively, she raised both her hands to the root of each eyebrow, slowly following the hairs to their tips. Her right eyebrow extended several inches past her face, as was typical for elves, her left however stopped short barely half an inch off her face, ending in an abrupt cut.

 _I must look ridiculous._ Was the first though that entered Erenaar's mind, followed by several more complex thoughts of panic and mourning that began to form. She felt the odd compulsion to scream at something. _No wonder Thrall could barely keep himself from laughing._

After a few seconds however, she remembered where she was, and internally snapped herself out of the quickly escalating train of thought. Her appearance had always been one of Erenaar's weak points, and it was all she could do not go into a full panic over having walked around for over a day with a missing eyebrow.

Looking back up towards Lady Sylvanas, Erenaar thought she saw a faint smile of amusement on her face; but if it was there, it disappeared as soon as Erenaar regained her focus.

Taking all the composure she could muster, Erenaar spoke in calm, yet slightly shaky tone.

"Thank you for pointing that out, my Lady… I'll be sure to deal with this before I leave. I must have stood too close to a passing swipe yesterday at the fort."

Sylvanas only nodded, and then returned to whatever documents she was analysing, either having grown bored with the situation or contented with its outcome.

Erenaar left the room, and began a brisk walk towards her quarters, passing as few people as she could.

 **III**

"I'll see you in three months, Commander. Enjoy your time away." Thrall said, giving Erenaar a smile as she re-tied her hair into into its usual ponytail. The two were stood in the courtyard of the garrison, Erenaar making a final few checks before departing. Next to them stood a mage, his eyes closed in concentration to keep the swirling portal in front of him open, a shimmering image of Silvermoon faintly present in its centre.

"I see you've addressed your eyebrow situation."

Erenaar shot him a glare; she'd taken the time after her meeting with Lady Sylvanas to trim both eyebrows to the same length. It wasn't pretty, and it would them a while to regrow to their normal length, needless to say, Erenaar was not pleased.

"If you think that me fixing my eyebrows makes me any less angry with you then you're wrong. You let me walk around for a whole day like this." She retorted, bitterness clear in her voice.

"There wasn't a good time Commander! With everything going on I felt it best to leave it to you to discover."

"Well that was a foolish decision. I met with Lady Windrunner like this!" She exclaimed, with equal parts anger and embarrassment.

Thrall gave her a guilty grin. "How did the meeting go, anyway?" He asked, eager to lead the conversation into a different direction.

"Okay, I suppose." She responded, annoyance still present in her tone. "She's a difficult person to read, and even I'll admit that she can come across as intimidating sometimes." She paused for a moment, a curious look coming to her face. "Is that how normal people feel when they talk to me?"

Thrall tilted his head slightly, it was probably an accurate comparison.

"Possibly. What was it like being on the receiving side?"

"I didn't like it." Erenaar admitted, "Which is good."

"Good?" Thrall questioned.

"Good." Erenaar confirmed, giving Thrall a smile. "I command all the intimidation of a bloody _Banshee Queen_."

They both shared a short laugh, Thrall realised he'd miss Erenaar for the next few weeks. Despite her attitude, she was always good for some laughter.

The moment having died down, the two shared a moment of silence, before Thrall extended an arm towards her.

"Farewell for now, Erenaar."

Erenaar extended her arm too, both gripping each other's forearm in an informal handshake.

Erenaar nodded at him with a smile, and they broke off the grip, Erenaar turning towards the portal. She was wearing her usual armour, but her gauntlets, pauldrons and hammer had been packed into a heavy case that stood by her feet; they'd be moved through after she passed though, the case itself being too cumbersome to carry with her. Not that she imagined she'd need them in Silvermoon.

Without another word, Erenaar approached the portal, feeling the arcane energy pass over her body as she entered. Her foot left the snow of Frostwall and stepped into the arcane swirls of the portal to meet – nothing. Expecting to walk straight onto the grasses of Quel'Thalas, her foot fell through the open air, causing Erenaar to practically tumble through the portal. Drastically off balance, her other foot instinctively tried to step in front of her as she fell, but it too met with no ground and the blue swirls of the portal engulfed her completely.

In less than a second though the arcane energies around her rapidly dispersed away from her vision and Erenaar came out of the other side of the portal, she saw a brief glimpse of a stone room, the floor below her and quickly approaching as her panicked fall continued.

She desperately tried to raise her arms in front of her as she braced for the impact, but in under a second she met with the ground head first. Everything went black, as her consciousness slipped away from her.

* * *

 **Ah, gravity. A Blood Elf's oldest enemy.**

 **Hope you enjoyed Chapter 3! I'm back into a groove now so hopefully there should be a much shorter gap this time before Chapter 4. Not that anybody's paying attention.**

 **If you have thoughts/questions about the story so far please feel free to write a review or something.**

 **See you in the next one for some Blood Elf/Draenei hijinks, in** _ **Chapter 4 – 'Unlikely Allies'.**_

 **Coming Soon TM**

 **Erenaar: wow/en/character/tarren-mill/Erenaar/simple**


	4. Chapter 4 - Unlikely Allies

**Chapter 4: Chapter 4 - Unlikely Allies**

 **Hello again!**

 **So first of all I'd like to apologise for this chapter taking so unreasonably long to come out. Originally I was putting it off due to an important exam period at college, but then a whole bunch of other stuff (such as holiday planning, holiday going and general laziness, I won't lie) got in the way as well. I promise I'll try to be more on the ball in the future. Especially since I took the time to lay out some plans for most of the future plot points.**

 **I also wanted to point out while I'm here that this story is an AU, and so while most of the canon story events will still take place, they may happen in different reasons, for different ways, an example of which may be coming up in this chapter. Also, (in case it's unclear) from a timeline point of view we're somewhere before the endgame events of Hellfire Citadel, but after the events of the main Draenor campaign. With the Iron Horde and their mercenaries keeping our intrepid heroes too busy for that sort of stuff. But how all that transpires will become evident soon maybe.**

 **So is this chapter worth the six month wait? Probably not.**

 **But is it still pretty cool though? Probably not. But it has a Draenei in it at least, and** _ **they're**_ **pretty cool.**

 **...**

 **So have fun reading, I'm pretty proud of how this eventually turned out, although you may want to re-read the last chapter to remember where we all were if you're reading this on release.**

 **See you in the footer boys and girls.**

Erenaar's head was pounding.

Through the pain, she raised her hands groggily to her temples and massaged them while her vision slowly came back into focus, trying to blink away the disorientation. She remembered leaving Frostwall, remembered falling through the other side of the portal that was supposed to take her home – and meeting with a rather abrupt landing instead. But she needed to know where she was now before anything else.

She blinked her eyes a few more times, fighting back the pressure in her head, and through the blur managed to make out the dimly lit stone room around her, the cold sensation against her back telling her she must have been slumped against its corner. But as her vision slowly returned, she noticed a more pressing matter; a Draenei sitting cross-legged a few metres opposite her.

Erenaar's eyes instantly snapped open, as she quickly tried to assess her for any immediate threat; but with her head still pounding behind her eyes and the room still spinning around her, anything more than fleeting details where lost. The Draenei opposite her was a woman, and looked around Erenaar's age, if not slightly younger. She was wearing what appeared to be nightclothes; long grey pants and a matching silk shirt that stopped a few inches above her waist, exposing light blue skin underneath. Both her hair and her eyes were a milky white, the former being tied up in a ponytail not dissimilar to Erenaar's own. She appeared unarmed, and was making no move to harm Erenaar. In fact, she seemed to be patiently waiting for her to come to her senses.

"You are awoke then?" The Draenei asked, her voice thick with the typical accent of her people; somewhat refined, but with a distinctive light inflection towards the end of each sentence, making them sound almost questioning.

Sitting up slightly, Erenaar responded to her - keeping her words cautious and planned.

"I – I am." She began slowly, "And you are?"

"Me? My name is Alaessia, of the Alliance command." The Draenei replied.

Erenaar nodded, and then paused for a moment, wanting to take in more of the situation before responding. The pain in her head had subsided enough for her to look around properly, and from what she could see she seemed to be in some sort of stone cell, around ten metres square. Apart from some torches and a jug, it looked like the Draenei was the only thing of interest in the room. The strangest thing she noticed though was that even though her head was clearing, her body still felt sluggish and lethargic, like she was missing any trace of energy inside her, but she pushed the thought aside to deal with the more pressing matter in front of her.

"Alaessia then, do you know where we are? I hate to say it but this looks like some kind of cell." She asked, still wanting to gather as much information as possible while she could, although she imagined that the Draenei was in very much the same situation as her.

Alaessia opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again after a second of thought, a confused look directed at Erenaar. It was only then that Erenaar realised; the Draenei probably had only the most basic understanding of Orcish, the Horde's common tongue, it would certainly explain her slightly jumbled manner of speakin. Unfortunately, Erenaar also understood very little of the Alliance languages that she might be able to speak – it seemed they would have to take things slowly for now.

"This room." Erenaar began slowly, motioning around them. "Do you know where it is? What location?"

It seemed to take her a moment to process the words, but after a few seconds of thought, Alaessia nodded slowly, and began to respond.

"Placed? In Draenor, not Azeroth. Instincts say as much."

What 'instincts' she was referring to Erenaar didn't know, although right now she had no reason not to believe her.

"Where in Draenor?" She continued, trying to use as many common words as possible, "Are we in Frostwall, Talador, Arak?"

In response, Alaessia only shook her head, either she didn't understand or she didn't know. Since she didn't press the matter, Erenaar assumed it was the latter. She took the pause to regard the Draenei for a moment, her short clothes giving Erenaar a good amount to go off. The woman was certainly a fighter, the definition on her arms and stomach tell-tale signs of combat training, and the odd scar here and there was proof that it was practical training at the very least. Her face was altogether rather expressionless, showing only the slightest signs of curiosity at their conversation, with a good underlying degree of what could only be described as bored resignation. Something about it almost seemed familiar.

With a moment to think though, Erenaar suddenly recalled what the Draenei had actually said to her when she asked her name.

"You said you were a Commander, Alaessia?"

Alaessia nodded at the words, then replied with a knowing smile.

"Like you, Erenaar."

Erenaar stiffened slightly against the wall; she knew this was bad. Not only was she sitting in a room with an Alliance Commander, but with one that clearly knew who she was – knowing her luck she'd probably been responsible for destroying her army or burning one of her outposts some years back. She began to realise how dangerous this situation could be; they had been talking amicably thus far because their situation seemed the same, but if Alaessia was telling the truth then their two people were technically enemies of war. Although Erenaar was unarmed, she was still wearing most of her armour from Frostwall, and reasoned she could probably take the Draenei if needs be – although she didn't plan on doing so yet. She considered it unwise to start a fight with someone whose strengths she didn't know, and besides, they were still prisoners in the same cell for now, and Alaessia had made no move against her yet.

"We have met shortly before, I and you." Alaessia casually commented, moving Erenaar out of her momentary assessment. "At the Iron…. fight." She paused for a moment, her white eyebrows furrowed in frustration as she glanced off to the side. "Iron… people… fight?"

It looked like their language overlap had hit a hitch, as Erenaar had little idea what the Draenei was trying to get across to her.

"Iron people?" She responded, "I don't think I've ever met any iron people, except for those Dwarves I guess… do you mean those?"

"No no, Iron _people_." Alaessia reemphasised, "Like _your people_ , but Iron."

The clarification made Erenaar none the wiser, she was pretty sure there were no iron Blood Elves walking about, nor of any other people she knew of.

"Well if we've ever fought together against Iron people it's not something the Horde's aware of, must be an Alliance thing." She commented, very much expecting that to be the end of the conversation.

"Horde!" Alaessia suddenly announced with a beaming smile, startling Erenaar more than she'd ever admit. "Iron _Horde_ , we fought united into the Draenor gates some moons before."

It took Erenaar a moment to internally reorganise the statement into sense, but within a few seconds she managed to get the gist of what Alaessia was trying to say.

"The Iron Vanguard you mean, when we assaulted the Dark Portal, you were there too?"

Alaessia nodded, seemingly proud of herself; although what for Erenaar didn't exactly know.

"Then you're the Commander in charge of the Lunarfall Garrison?" She continued.

"Command, yes." She responded, recognising the name if nothing else Erenaar had said. "As you are Command for Frostwell, no?"

"Frost _wall_ " Erenaar corrected, almost to herself, at least she was sharing a cell with somebody militaristically competent, if not linguistically so.

Now that her head had had the time to clear though, Erenaar steadily rose to her feet, using the wall behind her to brace herself. The exertion caused the pressure in her temples to return slightly, and she grunted to keep it at bay. Considering the fall she took though, she was lucky that a headache was the only problem she had.

Alaessia for her part, stayed sat in the middle of the room, watching Erenaar slowly walk around the dim cell with that same look of idle curiosity again, it reminded Erenaar of a child sat silently watching its parent move around the house, but she pushed the comparison aside. As she crossed to the other side of the room, Erenaar knelt to pick up the empty plate and half filled water jug that was sat in the corner, underneath one of the few torch sconces that barely illuminated the stone room.

"There's some water in here, but no food." She commented, "That's strange. Why even leave the plate if there wasn't anything on it?"

"Odd. Yes." Alaessia agreed. Nodding sagely to herself in thought, or maybe in confirmation. Erenaar wasn't exactly familiar with typical Draenei behaviour.

"How did you get here anyway?" Erenaar asked, as she continued to inspect the room, "Portal mishap?"

"Kid-steal. While I was out tracking."

" _Nap"_ Erenaar again corrected.

"I _was_ sleeping at the time, yes."

Erenaar shook her head slightly in exasperation. From what she could gather, the room itself was completely sealed off, probably underground. The only exit was through a thick steel door with a small sliding window at its top, both were closed.

She continued looking around for the next few minutes, noting the runic metal that ran vertically along the walls, every metre or so. On closer inspection, the runes seemed to be constantly shifting throughout the metal, and almost seemed to be drawing Erenaar in the closer she got. She wasn't exactly a master of runes, but she recognised these ones, they drew in mana from their surroundings, leaving magic users around them completely sapped. She doubted she'd even be able to cast a simple holy bolt in this room. It certainly explained why she still felt lethargic despite having time to recover from her fall; her body simply wasn't used to the absence of magic supporting her. Whoever had captured the pair certainly knew what they were doing, although the effect didn't seem to be bothering Alaessia much. Erenaar briefly had the notion to ask what discipline of fighting the Draenei practiced, but soon relinquished the idea; she supposed it didn't make much difference either way right now.

After a few more minutes of pacing and tapping on walls however, Erenaar eventually reached the same conclusion Alaessia must have reached after her arrival; whoever brought them here wanted them alive, so they weren't going to starve to death, their only apparent course was to wait until somebody arrived.

Sighing, Erenaar returned to her original position, and sat down where she had first woken up. Alaessia's gaze returned to her again, an eyebrow raised at her in approaching expectation.

"It appears we can't get out." Erenaar stated, thinking that they might as well make conversation to pass the time.

"That _is_ purpose of prison, yes?" Alaessia replied.

Erenaar decided not to rise to the remark; partly because she was unable to tell whether the Draenei was being purposely annoying or actually trying to help. A part of her struggled to imagine the young Draenei sitting opposite her running a Garrison equal to Frostwall's, but she knew that the image she had built of Alaessia in her head was probably influenced by the fact that they barely spoke a common language. Something she could hardly blame her for, Alaessia knew a lot more of Orcish than Erenaar did of Alliance Common after all. Besides, even Erenaar had heard the stories of how well managed the Alliance garrison was these days, at least she had a face to put to those stories now, albeit a very inexpressive face.

The thought about garrisons suddenly triggered a thought in Erenaar's head; a thought that made her shudder.

"Oh God." She said aloud, "If I don't get back, Windrunner's going to be given permanent command of my garrison."

"Windrunner?" Alaessia questioned, seeming confused by Erenaar's words.

"Yes, she's in Frostwall right now." Erenaar admitted, it wasn't exactly secret intel after all.

"No no," Alaessia countered "Windrunner is in Dalaran, I saw her there with myself. She is probably not made welcome in Frostwell, no?"

Again it was Erenaar's turn to be confused by the language; but this time by the conclusion that Alaessia had apparently reached.

"No." Erenaar began, her tone bordering on condescending, " _Sylvanas_ Windrunner is in Frostwall. You're thinking of Vereesa Windrunner; _she's_ in Dalaran."

"Oh, you mean dead-not-dead Windrunner? I thought that would make of more sense." Alaessia explained, nodding her head.

"Then why did you assume I was talking about Vereesa?" Erenaar asked, steady annoyance starting to build inside her voice.

"Well, to be fairness, Commander Erenaar, it was more likely explanation than it being Alleria Windrunner."

"Why are you bringing Alleria into this?" Erenaar exclaimed, her bewilderment slightly boiling over at the Draenei's train of logic. "Alleria's been dead for years! I mean… probably anyway."

"No 'probably', Erenaar. Definitely dead for Alleria. Yes yes." Alaessia confidently explained, completely moving on from the previous line of conversation.

Erenaar sighed, leaning back against the wall for a moment with her eyes closed, before summoning the will to continue with the conversation, forcing an even tone out of her.

"And how would you, Commander Alaessia, know the fate of Alleria Windrunner?" She eventually asked.

"She fell into the Twisting Nether and hasn't been seen in years, you believe her alive?"

"I mean… you're not wrong." Erenaar admitted, not actually being able to argue the point. "But it's a weird world out there; she'll probably spring up somewhere sooner or later."

Alaessia tilted her head slightly to the side, her white eyebrows furrowed in confusion; apparently that last comment had been slightly too grammatically complex for her understanding. But Erenaar was content to let their conversation end there, having had slightly enough of the semi-language barrier between them. She shrugged her shoulders at the Draenei, and the two fell into mutual silence for a while; Erenaar busy wondering exactly what had happened back at Draenor that the portal had led her here. It seemed Vol'Jin may have been correct about their security being compromised.

The two stayed in silence for a while; Erenaar mainly occupied with her thoughts while Alaessia sat perfectly still in the centre of the room in the same cross-legged position she had been in when Erenaar had first came to, her eyes now closed in either thought or light sleep. It was sometime before either of them had cause to move again.

 **III**

Without light, Erenaar couldn't tell how long had passed, hours to say the least, neither her or Alaessia had spoken since, mainly due to Erenaar being almost sure Alaessia had fallen asleep in her cross legged position. But suddenly a noise pierced their silence from outside the door; a deep laughter from some distance away, but getting closer to their cell. Alaessia's eyes darted open, and the two immediately stood up alert. They both turned towards the doorway, adopting their own battle stances as the noise drew nearer.

Judging by the sound there were at least two men coming towards their cell down a hall; Orcs by the heavy thud of their approaching footsteps. Their joint laughter subsided, and as they drew nearer Erenaar could start to make out some of their conversation; it appeared they were talking about them.

"And they claim to have the honour of being 'The Horde'!" One of them said, amusement in his voice, "Yet we managed to capture the bitch without a single attack!"

The two laughed again, and Erenaar bristled from inside the cell. They could only be a few paces away from the door at this point. They would be armed of course, but neither Erenaar or Alaessia planned on being taken away without a fight.

The small metal panel on the prison door slid open, and from the other side a brown Orc peered in, smirking at the two. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get any words out a dull 'thump' noise startled him from behind. The Orc quickly turned around in response, just as some unseen force appeared to strike him in the chest, knocking him back against the cell door – his head struck the metal with a ring, and he crumpled to the ground against the other side. Just like that, he room was once again plunged into silence. With neither of its inhabitants having the vaguest clue as to what was happening.

Erenaar and Alaessia stood in place for a few moments, waiting for whatever was coming next. After a few seconds, Alaessia turned her head towards Erenaar, and motioned towards the door. Erenaar nodded in response, and the two began to silently approach the door from either side.

Just as they were about to reach it, a new face appeared in the small window, looking around the cell expectantly. It was a face both immediately recognised.

"Archmage?" Alaessia asked in surprise.

"Ru mundi, Alaessia." Khadgar replied, at first using the common language of the Alliance, before turning to Erenaar and adopting a speech she was more familiar with. "And hello to you too, Erenaar."

"Always a pleasure, Khaddy." Erenaar replied, nodding towards him with a smile. "You here for the prison break?"

"So it would seem." He responded casually, his voice soft and refined "You may wish to step back."

Erenaar did as he said, and quickly crossed over to the far corner of the room, Alaessia taking her lead and following suit. After they were a good distance clear, Khadgar also took a step back from the door, and the two heard a small 'tap tap' of his staff against the metal.

The door suddenly buckled itself inwards to a point with a piercing screech of metal, then flung itself outwards like an explosion, along with most of the supporting wall frame. The debris rocketed towards Erenaar and Alaessia, but each piece was shining with its own unnatural blue light, and dissolving into the air before their eyes. By the time the debris had reached the other end of the end of the room, only a few small rocks and pieces of shrapnel remained; lightly colliding with either Erenaar, Alaessia or the wall behind them with little force. All that remained in front of them was a rather sizeable hole in the wall, in which stood the renowned human mage Khadgar, a smile on his aged face. Erenaar resisted the urge to call him a show off.

"Ro valaron, fendis." He said aloud to the two, causing Alaessia to nod in his direction and start moving forward towards the rough stone corridor beyond. Erenaar for her part understood nothing of what he had just said.

"I'm guessing that translates into 'Well that bloody was loud, we should really go'." She remarked, also walking towards the exit. "Don't suppose you have one of those handy translation runes we use at emissary meetings?"

"Ah, I forget you don't speak Alliance Common, Erenaar. You should make an effort to learn it at some point." The Archmage replied, rummaging in his pockets as the two reached him.

Erenaar made a face at him. "Well I've been slightly busy."

After a second, Khadgar produced a small engraved stone from the pocket of his signature silver and blue robe, and handed it over to Erenaar. She took it in the palm of her hand, and turned it over so that the runic engravings were pressed against her skin. After a moment, a small blue glow flashed from the stone, and the carved runes began to flow from the solid rock like ink onto her hand, reforming the same pattern in the centre of her palm like a tattoo.

Erenaar discarded the now smooth stone behind her, and joined the other two as they left the cell.

"Obvious question, but I'm guessing it's Alliance tuned?" Erenaar asked as they began to move down the corridor at a brisk pace.

"Well considering I can understand you perfectly, I'd have to guess so." Alaessia answered from her right, her sudden perfect vocabulary coming almost as a surprise to Erenaar.

The rune she just used was tremendously helpful thing the Kirin Tor had started making a few years back, it acted as a temporary magic spell that the Alliance and Horde could use for their occasional diplomatic discussions, as sparse as they were. It allowed the user to understand whichever language it was attuned to, and also for anybody that spoke that language to understand them. Erenaar couldn't claim to know how it worked; but from what she understood, anybody who could speak Alliance Common would now hear her talking in that language, whereas she would hear them in Orcish. However it worked, she was glad to have it. She'd had just about enough of the language barrier guessing-game.

"As I was saying," Khadgar continued, talking while they moved, "That noise will have alerted most of the base. This whole structure has a natural mana deterrent field around it, so only I was able to teleport in. We'll have to get out on our own, but there will be reinforcements attacking from above soon enough."

"And where exactly are we?" Alaessia asked, beating Erenaar to the punch.

"One of the remaining Iron Horde strongholds, in the Spires of Arak. Most of the complex is underground, and some form of natural anomaly disrupts large scale magic use in the whole area, only small bursts of magic can get through. It's the reason this place had remained up for so long, it took a lot out of me to teleport in here and find you, it's the reason why I couldn't bring half an army in here with me."

"Well we appreciate the effort." Erenaar commented, as the three rounded a corner in the dimly lit stone corridor.

After a moment, Khadgar came to a stop next to one of the steel doors that lined the walls to their sides. He cautiously pushed the door open and peered in.

"Empty." He announced, opening the door fully. "This seems to be the place's spare armoury; I noticed it on the way here. Take what you will, we may need it, but I advise you to hurry."

The two nodded at Khadgar, and Erenaar stepped past him into the room.

"You may wish to extend your search for some more reasonable attire as well, Alaessia." He added, commenting on the short night clothes that were still all she was wearing. "Unless of course you were planning on making a fashion statement to the Iron Horde!" He added, chucking at his own small joke.

"Calm down, Khadgar." She responded flatly as she followed behind Erenaar into the armoury.

Khadgar's laughter subsided, and he awkwardly cleared his throat as she passed. Erenaar was staring to like her.

Inside the room, Erenaar looked around at the various armour and weapons that hung off shelves and walls, most of which were covered in rust. The one exception was a rather ornate, black mace that leant against the table leg of a desk in the far corner of the long, but rather thin room; it probably belonged to some absent supervisor or Sergeant, as did the cloak that hung off the chair next to it. Little else in the room seemed of interest.

She crossed over to the desk and picked up the mace in one hand; it was heavy, but well balanced, with a small engraving at its base that read 'S.R.' in gold lettering. After a few practice swings in the air Erenaar decided that it would do as something to hit Orcs with. Before she turned to leave however, something else on the desk itself caught her eye.

Among the many stacks of parchment strewn across its surface was one in particular that was half folded out in a clear space directly in the middle of the table, it seemed to have been both written and read with some haste. Even though the wax seal was broken, Erenaar recognised it as being the mark of an official message from the remaining Iron Horde command. Thinking it might be of use, Erenaar also picked it up, and folded it into the small pouch she kept on her belt. She decided she'd read it once they weren't in an enemy prison probably swarming with Iron Horde soldiers. With that done, she turned around to leave the room, only to be met with Alaessia standing a few feet in front of her, startling Erenaar once again. A habit of the Draenei's that she was starting to grow tired of.

"Are we prepared to leave?" Alaessia asked, twirling a stolen spear casually at her side.

"Just about." She replied, being thankful that she appeared not to notice how much she'd surprised her.

"Anything of interest?" Alaessia asked, also approaching the desk to briefly glance at its contents.

"No idea." Erenaar responded. "If I read anything about a secret super weapon pointing at Lunarfall I'll drop you a raven about it."

"I would appreciate that." Alaessia said, nodding to her in thanks, making Erenaar wonder if she understood sarcasm. "I think I'm going to take Khadgar's advice and find some more modest clothing, not that I imagine there'll be anything that fits me in an Orc armoury." She continued, venturing further into the room with a smile that Erenaar momentarily returned.

She rather liked the Draenei, even in the short time they'd had to interact. While certainly bewildering at times, she had a sense of amusement around her that Erenaar couldn't help but respect, she knew better than anyone how much the pressures of command could weigh down on a person. A part of her hoped she'd get to see her fight before they returned to being at war with each other.

But focusing back to the matters at hand, Erenaar walked back towards the doorway, where Khadgar was keeping watch on the corridor outside.

"So, anybody on their way?" She asked as she approached.

"Not as of yet." He replied, not taking his eyes off the corridor outside. "I ordered Alaessia's men to assault the base from the surface half an hour after I teleported inside. It's taken me about that long to find you, so I imagine their troops are busy upstairs. We must be pretty far underground to not hear the commotion."

"Either that or something's went wrong as usual." She replied, sighing at how reasonable an explanation that usually was to these situations.

"Ever the optimist, Erenaar."

"Ever the _realist_." She corrected. "But how did you know we were here anyway? Those bastards managed to capture me without me even leaving my own base."

"Ah, you have Sash' to thank for that." Khadgar replied, turning slightly from the doorway to speak to her properly, satisfied that nobody was coming for the time being.

"Sash?" Erenaar queried. "She some Alliance Lieutenant or something?"

Khadgar laughed slightly at the comment, and from somewhere at the other end of the room she heard Alaessia do so too.

"She will be soon if Alaessia gets her way!" He exclaimed, "Sash' _is_ her pet chimaera after all."

Erenaar couldn't help but be slightly taken aback by the comment.

"You have a _chimaera_ as a pet?" She called out to behind her, where Alaessia was busy rummaging through a trunk.

"I do." Alaessia retuned, without looking up from her task, "I saved her life a few years back in Feralas from some Horde hunters, she's being with me ever since. I'm a hunter myself of course, but I don't agree with killing things just for the sake of it - apparently neither did Sash."

Erenaar supposed it was fair enough explanation, but there still was a part of her that really wanted to profess how impressive taming a chimaera was. Not that she ever would.

"She's a loyal companion indeed." Khadgar continued, "After you and your party were ambushed in the jungle, she found her way back to the garrison. Didn't take long for people to figure something must have happened to you. We, or rather she, managed to track you back to here not soon after."

"Sounds like I need to get myself a pet too." Erenaar commented, as Alaessia pulled a full-body cloak out from the bottom of the chest. "Although Thrall holds that position well enough for now."

"With a name like 'Thrall' I suppose he'd have to." Alaessia joked back, throwing the cloak over her head. The neck gap of the cloak, being designed for an Orc was far too wide, so the garment settled of the edge of her shoulders, and after doing up the first few buckles at the front covered most of her body except hands and below her knees, like a makeshift lengthened down shawl.

"How do I look?" She asked to the two, placing her hands on her hips to mock a modelling pose.

"Like a blue space alien wearing a blood stained poncho?" Erenaar replied, arcing an eyebrow at the Draenei.

"That is the _exact_ look I was going for." Alaessia replied with a smile, picking up her spear and walking towards the two again.

"Between that and the Thrall comment I think I'm starting to warm up to you, Draenei."

"I suppose its mutual, Blood Elf. We'll be making friendship bracelets within the week, yes?"

"If you two are done, we appear to have some company." Khadgar announced, interjecting them to motion out into the hallway.

"Raincheck then." Erenaar commented, moving swiftly to follow Khadgar as he moved out into the corridor, Alaessia following close behind her.

As soon as they stepped out Erenaar saw them; five Orcs donned in matching brown garbs where moving down the passage towards them at a steady pace, most likely a patrol that hadn't been alerted to the battle above. When they saw the three exit out of the room ahead of them however, the front most Orc immediately yelled out.

"Those are the prisoners! Get them!" He bellowed, thrusting his sword out in their direction. The five Orcs behind him instantly let out a battle cry, which echoed and amplified in the stone hallway, before drawing their weapons and charging towards them, two abreast.

Erenaar did the same, drawing her mace in her right hand and sprinting in the same direction towards them. As she was about to connect with the first two however, a spear suddenly whistled past her left ear, embedding itself into the chest of the leftmost Orc. The impact stopped him dead in his tracks, and as Erenaar clashed weapons with the other Orc to the right, she saw Alaessia run past her side, kicking the impaled Orc's body to bring him to the ground, and swiftly retrieving the spear from his chest.

At the same time, Erenaar used her free hand to send a wave of burning light at the Orc in front of her, his raised weapon still locked with Erenaar's mace leaving his centre completely exposed. The light stuck him, sending him flying back into the Orc behind him, and engulfing the both of them in shining flames so bright they almost hurt to look at. The immediate drain Erenaar felt was overwhelming, almost physical, she'd forgotten just how heavily her magic was being dampened down here by whatever effect Khadgar had mentioned.

Unaffected, Alaessia charged forward still, swatting the raised axe of the next Orc aside with the shaft of her spear, before moving in close and driving her shoulder into his chest. He stumbled a few steps backwards, and she jabbed the butt of her spear into his stomach, taking the breath completely out of him as he desperately tried to swing his axe in front of him. She dodged it with a side step, and then swung the end of the spear into the side of his head; he collapsed against the wall with a thud.

The two other Orcs were still engulfed in flame, and were desperately rolling on the ground, their agony causing screams to break from their mouths and pierce through the hall.

Erenaar moved up to finish them off, but before she could, Khadgar appeared behind them with a crackle of arcane energy. He raised his staff slightly, then brought it down to the ground again. As it connected, a wave of blue energy rippled outwards in front of him, it caught the two Orcs, and sent them flying against the two walls to either of their sides. They crumpled to the ground in silence, with the wave carrying on and passing harmlessly by Erenaar and Alaessia.

Khadgar turned around slowly, Erenaar and Alaessia walking up to stand to his side. The three stood, and faced the last Orc; the patrol leader who had given the first order. He clutched his sword in both hands, and for a moment looked like he was about to charge forward as his fallen comrades had, but after a few seconds instead just turned on his heels and ran without a word, bolting down the hallway away from them.

"We should stop him, yes?" Alaessia asked, turning towards the other two.

"We _could_." Khadgar replied, "But he _is_ running back in the direction of the cell. I say we just leave him."

"Eh." Erenaar grunted, slowly raising her hand upwards with a small smile. "I've had a really bad day."

With this, she flicked her wrist slightly, and with far more effort than it should have took, a fine bolt of light shot outwards from her plam like an arrow, striking the fleeing Orc in the back. As it hit, a flash of light shimmered over his body, and he collapsed to the hard floor, skidding a few feet on his chest before coming to a dead stop.

"Better." Erenaar remarked, before turning in the opposite direction and starting off the other way, stepping over the bodies of the Orcs as she did. Alaessia and Khadgar followed after her, the former giving a light shrug before doing so.

"The staircase to the surface base is just up ahead, Erenaar. Expect a battle to be going on up there." Khadgar said from behind her.

"I thought we'd already decided upon that part of the plan definitely going wrong already?" Erenaar replied, "Or are we living in hope still?"

"The latter."

"Excellent."

With that, the three moved into a jog, and managed to reach the base of the staircase before too long without encountering anybody else. The stairs seemed to be cut directly out of the surrounding stone, and wound upwards in a tight coil, making it impossible to see the top. With no idea how far upwards they had to go, Erenaar took point, and started up the winding stairs.

 **III**

It was only after a good few minutes of climbing that Erenaar saw natural light start to shine down through the passage ahead of them, although by now all three of them could hear the sounds of battle raging above them. Khadgar had made some comment about 'always trusting one's own men' when they had first heard it.

Climbing the last few stairs, Erenaar reached the top of the staircase, and cautiously peered around the open doorway that stood at its top.

The stark change in architecture was immediately apparent; the coarse, torch-lit stone they'd been surrounded by so far was suddenly replaced by finely-cut red sandstone bricks, which formed the walls and tiled the floors of the corridor the stairs led into, lit by the bright sun shining in through the large empty windows. The whole interior looked like it had been scorched under the sun for days.

The hallway was a good deal wider than the ones they'd been traversing underground, and although Erenaar couldn't see anybody, the sounds of swords and battlecries rang loud from outside, which she assumed let out to a courtyard of some kind that they couldn't be more than a story above. The only other door was at the opposite end of the hall; a big wooden thing reinforced with strips of dark metal.

"It's clear." Erenaar announced, moving though the doorway and motioning for the others to follow behind her.

"We should meet up with the reinforcements as soon as we can, we may be able to take on a few patrols but against an army we may find ourselves outmatched. Especially without any large magic usage to call upon." Khadgar added, quickly checking his peripherals as he followed Erenaar through into the hallway.

Alaessia followed up behind him, taking issue with his comment.

"You mean _you two_ may be outmatched. Last time I tried to cast magic was when I was eleven years old and I was _great_ at it, only singed off both my eyebrows."

"Speaking of;" Khadgar started, curiosity evident in his voice, "Erenaar, what happened to your ey-"

"Don't." Erenaar interjected. "Just Don't."

Before either of them could push the topic further, the door at the opposite end of the hall suddenly sprung open, and three men clad in silver amour pushed through, their shields raised high as if they were about to charge.

Recognising the sigil embossed on their shields and tabards, Erenaar instinctively drew her weapon out of its holster, and prepared to meet the attack. Barely a moment after she did though, her reasoning managed to get through over her muscle memory and she relaxed ever so slightly. Today, the golden lion of Stormwind was a good thing to see.

"Archmage Khadgar, Commander Alaessia!" The front-most soldier exclaimed, lowering his shield and stepping forwards slightly. "We've secured the ground level of the complex, Sirs. Although their men on the battlements are still giving us some trouble, so we're still wrestling for control of the courtyard."

"Very good." Khadgar replied, "Is there a viable route for retreat?"

"We left some men behind to keep the halls clear, so yes." The guard answered. At this point three other guards had joined him from behind, and all six were stood at attention, their swords at their sides.

They all appeared to be human, and male by the looks of it. All clad in silver coloured plate with gold accents, and the distinctive royal blue tabard of King Wrynn. While Erenaar didn't necessarily condemn the Alliance on politics alone, the imperious style of their uniforms didn't do anything to help her like them.

Khadgar turned towards her and Alaessia, doing his best to block out the sounds of fighting nearby.

"You two have more experience in these matters than me, what would you recommend? This base isn't crucial to our war efforts – we could pull our troops out and be satisfied with the damage we've done, or fight and try to take the base as our own."

Alaessia shifted her gaze to outside one of the nearby windows, furrowing her brow as she saw the fighting outside in the courtyard, mulling the situation.

Erenaar did the same; and saw the battle that was raging on. The bodies of Humans and Orcs alike littered the ground of the yard below, and even more were engaged in their own battles all across. At one end of the yard stood a dozen Alliance bowmen, sending arrows up the roofs above them where Erenaar could only imagine a similar amount of Iron Horde soldiers were stationed. It would explain the black bolts embedded in most of the fallen Alliance soldiers.

"We retreat." Alaessia suddenly stated, in a matter-of-fact tone, turning to face Khadgar directly. "Those are my men dying out there, and they wouldn't be here if it wasn't for my negligence. We'll come back another day."

"I agree." Erenaar added, moving away from the window before she also caught a bolt. "Our forces, Alliance and Horde, are spread thin enough around this continent as it is. If you waste forces here on a stronghold we don't need it'll only drag this war out more."

For a moment Khadgar seemed like he was about to object to the decision, and the ease of which it had been made in; but instead, his face softened and he gave the two a sedate nod, before turning back towards the soldiers – who were still stood calmly, awaiting their orders.

"Sergeant, give your men the order to retreat, and if any of them come across the Captain of this place, try to bring him in alive."

The Sergeant nodded, but glanced slightly at Erenaar before moving off.

"And the Blood Elf, Sir?"

"This is Commander Erenaar, follow her orders as if they were my own."

Even under his helmet, Erenaar felt the Sergeant's eyes fix on her for a moment, as if he were weighing up exactly to what extent he'd follow that Command if he had to. Erenaar met his gaze, and after a second he replied, not moving his eyes away from her.

"Yes, Sir."

 **III**

The Iron Horde was relentless.

The Alliance had done a good job at keeping a pathway to the base's entrance clear, but several of the hallways had already been overrun with Orcs trying to take them back and block them off. Personally Erenaar thought the Horde could have done a better job, but they currently thought she was sunbathing in Silvermoon, so she didn't vocalise her thoughts.

Khadgar, Alaessia and her had already fought their way almost back to the front, accompanied by a growing number of Alliance soldiers that had been joining them as they progressed; they were all currently assembled in what looked like an old entrance hall that housed the exit of the base. The sounds of fighting and charging that had been bleeding through the structure so far had now fallen silent; the two sides having met a stalemate.

They only had one obstacle left, and they were staring right at it.

Out of the entryway head of them was an open stretch of land, maybe 100 metres of open terrain before the savannah like foliage of Arak formed a dense treeline into the rocky contours beyond. But above them lay their last threat, what men were left of the base's defence had stationed themselves along the battlements several floors above them. The seven dead alliance bodies imbedded with crossbow bolts half way through the stretch attested to that fact – those had been the men that had tried to make a break for the trees already. They forced were pinned down, with no apparent way out.

Erenaar moved away from the doorway, and approached Khadgar, his aged face looking even more furrowed than usual.

"Do we have a plan?" She inquired, knowing from experience that the Archmage usually did.

"Not as such." He replied, instantly shattering all her expectations. He kept his voice low in case any of the soldiers overheard – the last thing they needed was panic among the ranks. "There aren't too many up there, two dozen at the most. If we're quick and keep our shields up, we should be able to make it to the treeline without too many casualties, but people will die."

"Our shields?" Erenaar asked. "I must have left mine at Frostwall."

"You use a shield now? I thought you called them lumbersome?" He replied, raising an eyebrow at her.

Erenaar didn't respond, but kept eye contact and hoped her expression would carry across her reply well enough.

"Ah, you were being sarcastic." Khadgar conceded after a moment.

"A more consistently applicable statement there is not." Alaessia chipped in, walking up to them after having finished bandaging up one of the Alliance men on the other side of the room.

"So, do we have a plan?" She asked.

"Not as such." Erenaar mimicked. "You couldn't just teleport us out, Khadgar?"

"If only it were that easy." He replied. "The effect this place has on magic is too debilitating, between teleporting myself in here and fighting our way to the front, I'm all but tapped out I'm afraid."

He was telling the truth – Erenaar had noticed the way he was slouching slightly while he stood, putting more weight on his staff than usual. Even his expression seemed tired, something she wasn't used to seeing on the Archmage, despite his aged figure, he usually behaved anything but. Not that Erenaar could blame him, she hid it better than Khadgar, but even she was starting to feel the effects of this place. At times like this she almost envied the warriors and brawlers of her army, naive to magic's benefits, but also its wear.

"We can't just fight our way to the top and kill them all?" Alaessia then added. "Simple as plans go I know, but it often works for me."

"They've barricaded the way up to the roof, and even if you could break through you'd lose more than a dozen men to bolts before you could get in close." Erenaar answered, it was a plan she'd already tried to test out several minutes earlier; much to her dismay she hadn't gotten very far.

"Well we can't wait here forever, they've probably already sent for those mercenary friends of theirs." Alaessia commented, not attempting to hide the distain in her voice.

Erenaar assumed she must have had her fair share of run-ins with them too, the Unbroken were proving to be more than problematic as of late. Only weeks ago the Horde had planned on setting up a new Garrison, ' _Vol'mar_ ', in the untamed Tanaan Jungle – the last known location of Gul'Dan and his followers. Only few days into the excursion however and their convoys were hijacked by the mercenaries, completely destroying the plan in its infant stage.

Thinking of the Iron Horde and their forces however, Erenaar was suddenly brought back to the letter sitting in her pouch that she'd taken from the armoury, and realised she never got the chance to read it. She reasoned that now was as good a time as any.

While Alaessia and Khadgar debated strategy, she pulled the letter out again, and unfolded it, to pass the time if nothing else, and briefly skimmed its contents. It appeared to be addressed to the outpost's Sergeant, from one of his brothers-in-arms.

But Erenaar's eyes stopped after only the first paragraph of the passage, transfixed on one particular sentence – a sentence that made her hair stand on end.

 _Oh._ Erenaar thought to herself. _Oh Shit._

She quickly read through the rest of the letter, absorbing its contents as fast as she could before then folding the letter back into her pouch, and fastening the seal so tight she thought it might break.

"Khadgar." She said, with pointed inflection, interrupting Alaessia in the middle of her sentence. "You need to teleport me back to Frostwall."

Neither of the other two spoke for a moment, in part due to the directness of the statement, but also due to the look they had now both noticed on Erenaar's face. It was one of concern, one of anger.

One of panic.

"Erenaar?" The Archmage began, "What is it? What wr-"

"I'll tell you when I can. But I need you to teleport me out of here now. Azeroth has bigger problems."

It sounded more of a command than a request, and again neither replied for a moment, Erenaar's apparent concern having spread to them both. Alaessia for her part, staying silent, despite her questions. But after a few seconds of silence, Khadgar simply gave a nod, then stepped forward.

He raised his staff in front of him, and crackling blue arcane energies began to swirl around Erenaar's body, starting weak but growing fiercer by the second, the exertion they were causing clear in Khadgar's contorted face. Around them, the Alliance soldiers all turned to look.

"Whatever this is Erenaar…" Khadgar grunted, sweat now rolling down his face, "You'd better fix it fast."

"I will." She replied, before the energies completely enveloped her. As the room around her faded out of view, the last thing she saw was the Archmage collapse to the ground unconscious. She hoped they'd manage on their own, but what she'd read was a hundred times more important than any of them.

The support of the tiled floor beneath her pulled away, and after a fleeting sensation of free-fall, her boots crunched down - into the fresh snow of Frostwall.

Erenaar glanced around, and breathed in the crisp air, allowing herself a moment of acclimatisation, before walking forward.

 **Dun Dun Duuuuuun.**

 **Yeah I just left you on another cliffhanger. I genuinely wasn't planning on it but, oh well. I'll make up for it by not taking half a year to upload the next chapter.**

 **For those of you wondering (since I have had people asking) my plans for this story are quite extended. Yes, Erenaar and Sylvanas will become a thing, it's a romance fic after all. But it might take some time for that to happen, after all their current relationship status can probably be summed up as 'tolerance' right now. I want this story to be about, well an actual story, with the ship happening alongside it, but still playing a role.**

 **The next couple sections will have them interacting a bit more though, so we may get a bit of progression; just don't be expecting a sudden 'and then fell in love' moment. We all know that neither of them are the type for that, and this story's going to have more plots going on than just their romance.**

 **On a side note; look out for the brilliant spin-off story "The Marvellous Misadventures of Alaessia the Draenei", coming soon to a fanfic site near you.**

 **That's not actually going to be a thing in case you can't tell, at least not for a** _ **very**_ **long time.**

 **As always, feel free to follow and review with any comments, questions or criticisms that you may have. Your reviews and PMs so far have actually motivated me to spend half an hour or so writing when I really felt like I couldn't be bothered more than a few times.**

 **Thank you as always, sorry for such a lengthy footnote, but these things happen.**

 **See you in the next one for** _ **Chapter 5 – 'Squad Erenaar'**_

 **Coming SoonTM**


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